


The Ice Inside Your Soul

by Clea2011



Category: Primeval
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Break Up, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-12 06:20:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 39,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clea2011/pseuds/Clea2011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following an accident, everything changes for Becker and Connor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ice Inside Your Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Medic Dave 'Ditzy' Owen is borrowed from Fredbassett

It was the same as any other morning.

Connor slept in an empty bed, whilst his lover had already slipped away, abandoning him.  Only when the front door opened again, an hour later, and he heard the familiar clatter of mugs in the kitchen did he even consider moving, and even then it was only to roll over.

Even after a long run, sweat-soaked and dishevelled, Becker still managed to look good.  He'd look good to Connor whatever state he was in.

"I knew you wouldn't be up." Becker set the two mugs of steaming liquid down on the bedside table. 

Connor could smell the strong coffee in his mug wafting towards him, knowing it would have been made just how he liked it.  He didn't know how Becker could face the morning just on tea.

"No point.  I'd only end up showering twice.  Gotta think of the water bill."

"Just once," Becker said as he climbed back into bed, "I'd like to get home and find you've got up and cooked me breakfast."

"You'd expire from shock.  I've heard about these things, people collapsing after long runs.  Can't be too careful.  I'm looking after you!"

"By lazing around in bed all morning?"

Connor glanced at the alarm clock.  It was ten past seven.  "Normal people don't get up at the crack of dawn..." he rolled over, snuggling up, then recoiled slightly.  "Yuck!  You're soaked!"

Becker grinned, pulling him closer and ignoring the mock-protests as he claimed his lover's mouth, pushing him down into the mattress.  The sweat didn't matter, it was fresh and tasted of salt and Becker, and as Becker ground against him Connor felt as if he were being marked with the scent of his lover.  It was territorial: This is mine.  That was like Becker, possessive, Connor often felt as if he were owned, protected.  It was a good feeling.

"You know what I'd like now?" he murmured, nuzzling at Connor's ear.

"Same thing you always want this time in the morning?" Connor hazarded, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.  He knew better than to get up while Becker was off on his run, the endorphins always set him up for more exercise afterwards, and it wasn't something Connor had any wish to miss out on. 

In response Becker sat up, pulled his darkened t-shirt over his head and threw it onto the floor, then wriggled out of his shorts and threw them aside as well.  Connor smirked.  No way would Becker have done that six months ago.  He'd have stripped first, put everything neatly into the laundry basket (Connor wasn't entirely sure where the laundry basket was any more) and probably insisted Connor did the same.  It was a great habit to have broken him of. 

When he'd first moved in with Becker, Abby had smugly predicted that Connor's messy days were numbered, she was certain Becker wouldn't stand for Connor's messy style of living.  Her first visit seemed to prove this, the apartment was still immaculate.  The second visit... well, they'd not been expecting her, and anyway it wasn't too bad.  Then her soldier boyfriend needed to drop in some papers for Becker, and she came along too, and Connor had been living there some weeks by then...  The look on her face had been awesome, Connor had even managed to get a shot on his phone to tease her with later.  To be fair, it had been a particularly bad day...

This was a good day though.  Or was starting out that way anyway.  Becker had climbed onto his lap, straddling him.  He took hold of Connor's boxers and yanked them down, struggling a little with the awkward angle, then Connor kicked them aside when they were down below his knees. 

"Don't know why you bother with those," Becker muttered.  "They just get in the way."

He leaned down, kissing Connor again, working his way down his throat, his chest... Connor threw his head back and just gave himself up to the sensations as Becker's hungry mouth engulfed his cock.  It stopped far too soon and left Connor erect and panting for more.

"Don't stop!"

Becker grinned and sat up again.  He ran his hands down Connor's chest, then flipped him over onto his front.  Holding Connor in place, he reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a bottle of lube. 

Connor yelped as Becker squirted a little of the cold gel directly onto his arsehole, then groaned as his lover carefully inserted a finger, working at him, introducing another finger, stretching him.  Connor gave a low whine that changed in tone as Becker crooked his finger, finding his prostate and began to slowly massage him into the mattress.  Connor buried his face in the pillow, gripping it tightly.

"So good, don't stop..."

"Oh, you like that, do you?"

The only response Becker got was another muffled moan of pleasure, Connor's breathing getting heavier.  He whined in protest when Becker stopped the finger-fuck and pulled him up onto his knees.

"Don't stop... don't..."

Becker used a little more lube, then pushed his cock deep into Connor's tight hole, eliciting another groan, then they were both moving, Becker's hips thrusting hard against Connor but his strong arms holding the slightly smaller man upright.  Connor took a firm grip on his own cock and started to pump furiously.  Becker's arms tightened around him and the thrusts grew harder, faster and then Connor's orgasm washed over him and he spilled over his hand and the sheets, hearing Becker groan behind him as the contraction hit him.  Another moment and he felt Becker shudder against him and mutter: "Fuck...yes..." as he came, slumping forward and pushing Connor back down into the mattress, collapsing beside him.

They lay like that for a few moments, both catching their breath, then Becker pulled him into his arms, kissing him slowly, savouring him.  When he eventually released him and got out of bed it was with obvious reluctance.

Connor couldn't ever remember feeling as content as he did on mornings like those.  His life had definitely taken a huge turn for the better that year.  He felt loved, truly loved.  He rolled over, watching Becker moving about the room, getting out his clothes for the day and carefully laying them over the back of the chair.  Becker still tried to keep things as neat and tidy as the day before Connor moved in, but it was a battle he'd never win.

"I'm going for a shower," Becker called as he headed out of the bedroom.  "Can you change the sheets?"          

They were going to be late for work if they didn't get a move on.  Connor glanced down at the stained and rumpled sheets, then shrugged.  They could sort it all out when they got home.  It was probably his turn to do the washing.  Maybe sort it out at the weekend then.  He could hear the shower going, and... Becker was singing in the shower!  It was quiet, but he could make out the words.  One of those songs Connor had put on his iPod, trying to update his music tastes.  Becker swore he hated them... but he was half-humming, half singing one.

Connor grinned, switched to the appropriate app on his phone, and started to take a recording.  That would be great teasing material later.

He left the bedroom as it was.  No point in doing anything else.  They'd only mess it up again later.

***

Anomalies. 

They never stopped being scary, they never stopped being fascinating.  They were totally unnatural, and if they stopped happening tomorrow Becker wouldn't be sorry.

Except he would, because it would mean he had to go back to more usual Special Forces assignments and could be posted absolutely anywhere.  He might not see Connor for months.  No, the anomalies weren't an altogether bad thing.  But many of the creatures that came through them were.

Connor put a name to the monster that had come through this time as Ankylosaurus, but Becker couldn't pronounce it.  He didn't try twice.  It was huge and armour-plated, and if that wasn't enough of a defence, it was covered in spikes and had an enormous tail with what looked suspiciously like the ancient ancestor of a wrecking ball attached to the end of it.  He kept his men well back, wanting to minimise even the slightest chance of any casualties.  With the size of the tail on that beast, the chances were somewhat greater than slight.  And with Danny Quinn around, they grew proportionately larger.

Danny, Becker had very rapidly come to realise, thought he was clever, witty and cool.  Becker thought he was just annoying and maybe slightly insane, but then you had to be a bit insane to work at the ARC.  At least he hadn't turned up on his motorbike that day, or tried to pilot a helicopter, or done any one of a hundred other dangerous or annoying things that Becker could recall over the past months.  No, today he was driving one of the ARC trucks.

And he was driving it towards the Ankylosaurus.

"Quinn!  You idiot!  Stop!"

Danny just waved at him out in the rear-view mirror, and kept going. 

"What the hell's he doing?" Becker snapped at Abby.  She'd been the last one talking to Quinn before he'd jumped in the truck.

"He said something about herding it back through the anomaly."

Quinn really was an idiot.  If Becker needed proof, there it was.  The truck was a reasonable size, but it wasn't going to stand up to that dinosaur.  One swing of the massive tail and it would be over.  He winced as Quinn honked the horn loudly, making the creature bellow and lumber round to face the truck.  The tail swung dangerously. 

Danny drove the truck straight at the beast, then swerved at the last moment.  That did it, the dinosaur ran at him, trying to charge the truck.  Danny sped off towards the anomaly, the creature in pursuit.  Becker cursed, and ran after them, Abby and his men following.  He had men guarding the anomaly... if Quinn's recklessness put them in danger he'd have Lester sack him.  Or try, because he doubted Lester would listen.  It was a thankless task, being the head of the military side of the ARC. 

Danny didn't even slow down as he approached the anomaly, and went through.  It would serve him right if the damned thing closed behind him and he was trapped there, Becker thought.  But it looked stable enough.  Too stable, not even flickering to mark the sight of a large dinosaur thundering through it.  The Ankylosaurus stayed in the 21st century, and by the looks of it had slowed at the sight of fresh prey and was starting to stalk one of Becker's soldiers.

_Bloody Quinn_ , Becker thought.  He raised his shotgun.

"Don't kill it!" Abby warned.

"Kill it?!  Take a look at the thing, Abigail!  It's the dinosaur equivalent of a tank!  The bullets will just bounce off.  And you want to wait till it's eaten one of my men?"

"It won't, it's a herbivore," Connor assured him.  He wasn't sure where Connor had popped up from, last time he checked Connor was sitting in one of the trucks with his laptop, researching the creature.  "It's all defence.  If we don't hurt it..."

The creature lumbered round, tail swinging dangerously, barely missing the nearest soldier.  The man fired off a shot, but it just bounced off the Ankylosaur's plates.  Becker swore, and pushed past Abby, shielding her.

"Get back in the truck!" he snarled at Connor.  "Abby!  How do we get that thing back through the anomaly?"

"Stop scaring it, for a start," she advised, as another of Becker's men tried unsuccessfully to shoot the poor creature.  It was Abby's boyfriend, Lieutenant Saunders.  "Stop it, Josh, you're frightening it!"

Becker reluctantly ordered his men to stop shooting.  Quinn still hadn't reappeared. 

"Maybe if we try some food?" Connor ventured.  He hadn't gone back to the truck and was still hovering behind them watching the Ankylosaurus.  "They eat tons."

"One of your ancestors?" Abby smirked.

"I don't..."

"Suggestions, Abby!" Becker had the Ankylosaurus facing him now.  He didn't particularly like the idea of being charged at by a thirty-foot dinosaur, especially not one which appeared to repel bullets and was covered in spikes.  Where the hell was Quinn?  "And get back to the truck, Connor!"

This time Connor obeyed, eyeing the Ankylosaurus warily.  "I'll just...yeah." He backed off, but didn't go far, standing behind Abby.

"If we all move very slowly…" Abby suggested.  "Circle round it and gently herd it towards the anomaly.  Take care not to scare it."

He was herding dinosaurs again.  When he signed up for the army, this wasn't what he had envisaged.  The dinosaur raised its tail slightly and he saw the soldier nearest to it tense.  A moment later and they were all turning away, gagging.  No, definitely not what they had signed up for. 

"It's frightened," Abby insisted. 

The smell was pretty frightening, Becker agreed.  He stepped forward again, trying not to breathe through his nose, moving slowly and carefully.  It seemed to be working, the Ankylosaurus looked at them, then took a step back, and another.

There was the sudden roar of an engine, and Danny's truck exploded from the anomaly, heading straight for the Ankylosaurus.  It gave a howl of distress as the truck sailed past it, barely missing it, and immediately bolted as best its short legs and huge body could manage.  Becker only just threw himself out of the way in time.

"Quinn, you idiot!" Becker snarled as the truck passed him. 

Danny turned the truck around and followed the creature, passing it and stopping a little further on, honking the horn and flashing his lights.  Again the creature gave a foghorn-like cry of distress, turned and headed back for the anomaly, this time with the truck in pursuit.

"He's terrifying it!  They're harmless!" Abby exclaimed furiously.  "This is cruel!"

Becker didn't agree that the Ankylosaurus was harmless, but he tended towards the opinion that the sooner it was safely back in the Cretaceous, or wherever it had come from, the better.   He moved aside, pulling Abby back with him as the creature lumbered towards them.  It must have been pretty heavy, he could feel the ground vibrate a little as it got closer.  He turned to yell at his men to keep back, not that he thought any of them would be stupid enough to stand in its way but you never knew...

And there was Connor, standing right in the path of the charging dinosaur, looking at something on his phone, totally distracted.

"Connor!"  Becker didn't even think, just sped across the clearing and pushed Connor out of the way, falling after him.  He heard a loud crack as the Ankylosaurus flattened Connor's phone, and the last thing he saw before passing out was the look of fear and horror on Connor's face, and Connor reaching for him...

***

"BECKER!"

There was too much blood.  Way, way too much blood.  Connor wriggled out from underneath Becker's unconscious body, and gently rolled him over.

"Don't move him!" Saunders, the field medic amongst Becker's team, ran up.  "Crap!  It got him in the head!" He knelt down and checked the vital signs, and Connor didn't miss the flash of concern that briefly slipped across his face. 

"He'll be okay?" Connor asked, afraid of the answer. 

"Hopefully," Saunders nodded.  "Too soon to tell."  He looked around.  "Peters!  Get me a neck brace and... just whatever you can find.  Turner!  Call back to the ARC, get an ambulance and medics out here, tell them it's head trauma.  Tell them to move it!"

"What happened?" Danny appeared, standing over them and blocking out some of the sunlight.  "He just ran out into its path."

"He was saving me," Connor admitted.  "The creature swung round again and its tail hit him on the back of the head.  He'll be okay, won't he?"

Danny crouched down, putting a hand on Connor's shoulder reassuringly.  "Becker's tough, or so he keeps telling us.  He'll be fine, don't worry."  But Connor didn't miss the apprehensive glance that passed between Danny and Saunders. 

The Ankylosaurus had lumbered on through the anomaly without further incident, probably glad to escape, and one of the soldiers had locked the anomaly to ensure nothing else got through.

Connor knelt helplessly on the forest floor.  There was nothing he could do, and he knew he'd only get in the way if he tried.  Saunders had stopped the bleeding, but Becker still looked deathly pale and showed no signs of regaining consciousness.  Connor watched enough movies where this sort of thing happened.  Someone was hit on the head, they even did it for comedy effect from time to time.  The person would be okay, they'd pass out and jump up as if nothing were wrong.  But he knew it didn't work like that in real life.  Suddenly Becker, who was always so strong and indestructible, now seemed fragile and breakable.  He noticed the way Saunders was carefully fixing the brace around him, the way the other men were standing around, talking quietly, watching. 

"Connor."  Abby pushed a plastic cup into his hands.  The smell of the coffee from his thermos revived him just a little.  "Drink."

It was too hot and burned his mouth a little but he didn't care.  He'd only been distracted for a moment, just a stupid text from some computer company advertising a new game...  God, what if Becker died?  What if there was internal bleeding and he was brain-damaged?  It was the back of his head... wasn't that where there was most of the optic nerves or something?  What if he went blind?  What if...

"Connor!" Abby was a little sharper and he realised he had been thinking out loud.  "Stop it.  He'll be okay."

But she didn't know that, she wasn't a doctor.  The ambulance turned up and because it was from the ARC there was no problem letting him sit in there.  Abby said she'd follow, and sure enough she was there within a few minutes of them arriving at the hospital.  Their chief medic, Lieutenant Dave Owen, known to most as Ditzy, was waiting for them.  Not a specialist, but he'd be able to field any awkward questions and make sure Becker had a medical professional on hand at all times until he was out of danger.

Somehow, at the hospital it got even more scary.  The sirens had been blaring all the way, which did nothing to calm Connor's nerves, and as soon as they stopped at A&E the doors flew open and there was a rapid burst of activity.  Medical staff seemed to be swarming the ambulance, although in reality there weren't that many of them.  They wheeled Becker in, walking so fast that Connor had to trot to keep up.

"Stay here," one of the nurses told him, pushing them into a small waiting room.  "We'll let you know when there's some news."

And then the doors swung closed behind the gurney, and everything suddenly seemed very quiet.  Abby put her arms around him and held him.  He hadn't even realised that he was crying.

***

It felt like forever, but eventually the ARC medic reappeared.  Ditzy looked tired, but then most of them did.  Connor didn't want to think what he might look like.  Abby had found him a fresh t-shirt from somewhere.  Black, it was probably one of the soldiers' spares but he wasn't complaining.  He'd been covered in Becker's blood and people had been giving him curious looks.  One nurse had even checked to make sure it wasn't his own.  Now he matched the Special Forces guys.  Becker would have something to say about that.  If he woke up.

"Is he okay?" Abby asked. 

Connor was so glad she was there, his voice didn't seem to be working.  Becker would have had something to say to him about that, too.

Ditzy smiled.  Connor had seen that smile before.  It was the one he used when he was trying to play down the seriousness of a patient's injury.   "We think he'll be fine.  He's had a nasty blow to the head and he was unconscious for longer than expected, but that's probably nothing to worry about too much.  The body has ways of healing itself.  He'll stay in overnight, because there's some swelling and they want to check that's not going to cause problems.  He'll have a hell of a headache though."

"He's awake?" Connor asked. 

"Yes.  They're still examining him.  He's a bit confused, but that's normal."

"Can I see him?"

"Not yet.  Why don't you go along to the canteen and grab some lunch, try to relax?  I'll call you when you can visit.  He should be fine, he's talking, lucid."

It was a relief, but he remembered: "I've got no phone, the dinosaur trampled it.  You'll need to call Abby."

Abby squeezed his arm reassuringly.  "He will.  And we could at least get a coffee."

"Good idea," Ditzy turned to go, dismissing them already.  "I'll call Abby as soon as he's up to visitors."

"I'm not just a visitor," Connor muttered, but Ditzy was gone.  Reluctantly, he let Abby lead him off to the canteen.

***

It seemed to take forever before Abby's mobile rang, and they were allowed back onto the ward.  Abby went back to the waiting room with a coffee and a magazine, whilst Connor didn't hesitate to go into the ward.

Becker was sitting up when Connor came in and took his place back in the chair next to the bed.  There was a doctor checking Becker over, shining a light into his eyes.  Ditzy was hovering nearby.

"You're awake!"

"Obviously."  Becker didn't sound as if he was in the best of moods, but then he was never a good patient.  Connor could remember the time he was on enforced sick leave for a fortnight recovering from a creature bite.  Connor had needed sick leave himself to recover from the experience.  He hoped Becker wasn't going to be confined too long this time.

"And in a good mood.  Yay," Connor said with considerable lack of enthusiasm.  The look Becker gave him told him all he needed to know about how much he was enjoying his visit to the hospital.

The doctor was writing something down, then started more tests. 

Becker frowned at Connor.

"Maybe some privacy, Connor?"

It took Connor a moment to register that he was being asked to leave.  He looked to the doctor, confused.  "He'll be okay, won't he?  You're not going to tell him something I can't hear?"

"It's my bloody medical, Connor!  It's nothing to do with you, though I'm betting you had something to do with however I got like this!" He looked at the doctor.  "He's an accident waiting to happen.  Mine, this time, by the looks of it."

"Can't you remember?"

"No."

That explained the bad mood then.  Becker wouldn't like losing part of his day, even if it was the least enjoyable part.

"That's... maybe just as well.  You pushed me out of the way..."

"So it was your fault?"

"Not exactly.  It was the dinosaur’s tail, it swung round and hit you in the head.  I pulled you clear."

"Thanks."

Connor shrugged.  "Well, I wasn't going to leave you, was I?  I'd miss your coffee."

Becker gave him a curious look, then shook his head confusedly and looked back at the doctor.  "I really would prefer the examination in private."

Ditzy looked over at Connor.  "Sorry, mate.   If you could just wait outside..."

"But I should stay."

"No you bloody shouldn't!" Becker snapped at him.  The level of anger was a shock, he knew Becker was a dreadful patient but Connor had never had the man direct his temper at him like that before.  "Get out!"

"But what if there's something I need to do when we get home?"

"When _we_ get home?"

"Yes.  To... our flat."  Connor hesitated, a nasty suspicion forming.  "The flat where we live... together.  You remember that, right?"

"I don't... You live with Abby."

"No." Connor glanced at Ditzy, who was frowning at Becker.  "I live with you.  We're together."

"Together?  You mean... me and you?"

"Yeah.  Six months now."  He watched Becker's face, but there was no recognition there.  If anything there was disbelief.  "Don't... you remember?"

Becker just shook his head, and turned to the doctor, looking for confirmation.  Not to Connor.  That stung possibly even more than the realisation Becker didn't remember them.

"What's the last thing you remember?" the doctor asked gently.

Becker shrugged.  "It's a bit hazy.  Starting the new job.  Everything being a bit weird.  Dinosaurs.  That's still weird!"

"That never stops being weird," Connor agreed. 

Becker stared at him, and Connor knew he was thinking that the dinosaurs weren't the weirdest thing for Becker at that moment.  He carried on, trying to ignore the expression on Becker's face.  He could start remembering at any moment, and then all this would go away.  They'd laugh about it.  They would.  "Danny only accepted it all so fast because he's weird too!"

"Who's Danny?"

Connor's heart plummeted further.  If Becker didn't remember Danny that meant he was way, way back in the early days.  Back in the time when he used to look at Connor as if he were something slightly distasteful that he had accidently trodden in.  There had been some almost cruel comments made, some teasing that wasn't altogether kind.

Then Becker had got to know him, and changed his mind.  Apologised, even, and they'd moved on.  Moved on so far that Connor had forgotten about it until now, but now that expression was back on Becker's face, mixed with confusion and maybe a little fear too.

"Danny's the team leader."  He could see the confusion deepen, and added before the painful question was asked: "After Helen killed Cutter, we needed a new team leader.  You argue with him a lot," he added, trying to move the subject quickly back to Danny.  It didn't work.

"Cutter’s dead?"

"Yeah."  Becker had stopped being quite so full of himself after that.  Difficult to be cocky when you'd failed to do what you were employed to do.  "But do me a favour and ask someone else about that."

"Was I negligent?"

"No."  Connor watched Becker's face relax a little at that, and wondered if it might've been better to say yes.  That was when it had started to change between them, almost to the day.  "Things go wrong, but you're never negligent."  He glanced back at the doctor.  "He's going to remember everything soon, isn't he?  This isn't permanent?"

"We need to do more tests."

It was deliberately non-committal, and Connor knew it.  He opened his mouth to question further, but Becker beat him to it.

"Look, you should go home.  I'm guessing I'm supposed to rest?" he glanced at Ditzy, who nodded but not without a worried glance over at Connor.  "So, you go home, and maybe I'll have remembered everything by tomorrow anyway."

It was a dismissal, and Connor knew it.  He couldn't even lean over to kiss his lover goodbye because he was fairly certain it wasn't going to be appreciated.  He nodded.  "See you tomorrow then."

"Yeah."

Tomorrow had to be better.  Connor slunk out of the ward, head down.  Becker would remember everything, and it would all be okay.  He headed for the waiting room, where Abby was sitting ready to give him a lift home.  She'd probably stay if he asked her to, once she knew what had happened. 

Then he realised he'd done it again.  His door key was still sitting on the hall table.  Becker was always telling him to pick it up, but it had never really mattered because they'd always gone home together.  Or if they hadn't he had just taken Becker's key and if it was deep in his pockets then so much the better.  Connor hurried back to the ward, knowing that the mood Becker was in he might well regret doing so.  He wasn't going to be impressed that Connor couldn't even remember to pick up his own door key.

The screens were up around the bed when he re-entered the ward, and he could hear Becker talking to the ARC medic.  He couldn't see, but he knew it was them, he could hear every word.

"...ever going to get them back?"

"Course you are.  These things are only temporary.  You'll be fine."

"And... Connor?  That's true?  I live with _Connor?_ "

It was the way he said it, the disbelieving, slightly horrified tone that made Connor freeze where he stood.  He couldn't disturb them now, couldn't let either of them know that he'd heard.  Becker wouldn't say that, he'd never say that, he loved Connor.  He'd even told him so once or twice, when they'd had too much drink, or were sated on sex, or both.

"Yeah.  You're happy with him, so don't screw it up.  You'll probably wake up tomorrow and remember everything."

"Not sure I want to.  Jesus... _Connor_."

"Connor's okay.  And like I said, you're happy with him.  Don't do or say something you're going to regret."

Becker snorted contemptuously.  "I think we're way past _that_!"

That was as much as Connor needed to hear.  Head down, he backed quietly out of the ward then fled back to the waiting room. 

Abby was sitting there reading a magazine and sipping coffee.  She glanced up when the door opened, saw the look on Connor's face and immediately got to her feet.

"Is he worse?"

Connor shook his head.  "Can I stay at yours?  I forgot my key."

"Of course, but... can't you use Becker's?  He's not going to mind."

Connor gave a bitter little half-smile.  "Oh, he'll mind."  He glanced at the other people in the waiting room, then held the door open for her.  "Can I tell you when we get back?"

"Yes, but you're worrying me."

Connor bit his lip.  He was worrying himself as well.

***

Going back to the hospital the next day was hard.  Their car was parked at the ARC, but of course Becker had the key and given his mood the previous day there was no way he'd be handing it over.  Connor struggled enough to get Becker to let him drive even when things were normal.  He'd borrowed one of the ARC vehicles so that he didn't have to keep bothering Abby.  She'd wanted to come in with him once she'd heard the whole story but he'd persuaded her to stay behind.  If Becker was still in the same frame of mind as he had been the previous day, Connor thought he could do without any more witnesses.  Because Becker would get better, and then none of this was going to matter.

Ditzy was already there, had been there for hours with the specialists.  They were reluctant at first to turn their trauma patient over to an army medic, but twenty-four hours of Becker's bad temper was enough to convince them that it wasn't such a bad idea.  He met Connor out in the corridor and ushered him into a treatment room to talk through all their findings and what Connor could expect.

Retrograde amnesia was what Ditzy called it.  Apparently it wasn't so very unusual in a severe head injury.  They'd established it as being at about eight or nine months lost at most.  Unfortunately it covered the most important months as far as Connor was concerned. 

"It'll come back to him though," Connor said anxiously.  "This is just a temporary thing, isn’t it?"

"Usually.  There's always a chance it won't, and it might take a while."

"And he still doesn't remember anything about me?"

"Nothing you'd want him to.  Sorry."

"Can't we just hit him on the head again?  That always works in cartoons!"  Connor saw the look of disbelief that flashed across Ditzy's face, and added: "Joke."

"I'm never sure with you.  Come on then, you'll have to face him sometime."

"That bad?"

Ditzy shrugged, and held open the door.  "Only one way to find out."

Through the window in the door, Connor could see Becker sitting on the edge of his bed, dressed and obviously ready to leave.  He was wearing a t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms, Connor recognised the clothes as his gym kit from the ARC.  Ditzy must have brought them in for him.  He felt an irrational stab of jealousy. He should've been the one to go home, pack a bag, bring in everything Becker needed.  He'd make up for it when they got home, he was determined.  But first he had to face Becker again. 

He stuck his head round the ward door, forcing a grin. 

"Hey!  Feeling any better?"

There was always a chance Becker had remembered everything in the few minutes since Ditzy had left him and gone out to meet Connor.  It was a slim chance.  Becker scowled at him.  It was no chance.

"He's like a bear with a sore head," Ditzy whispered.  "Literally.  They'll be glad to be rid of him."  He slipped past Connor and walked in first, cheery as ever.  Becker's scowl deepened.  "Come on then, let's get you out of here."

"About time." Becker got up far too quickly, swayed very slightly, but managed to stay standing by sheer force of will at first.  Connor noticed he'd gone very pale, and automatically moved towards him in case he needed support.  Becker must've noticed, as he glared at him, daring him to come any nearer.

"Sit down," Ditzy told him.  Connor wondered if the lieutenant quite liked ordering his senior officer around.  Amazingly, Becker obeyed, but as he looked as if he might fall down anyway the order was probably just an excuse.  "Good.  Stay there, I'll go and get the discharge letter, then Connor can drive you home."

Becker's gaze turned back to Connor, but he didn't comment.  He didn't really need to, his look said it all.  Connor couldn't meet that gaze for long.  He ducked his head and headed over to the visitor chair by Becker's bed, using the excuse of settling in it to avoid looking at his lover again.  Or whoever that was.

"So... you're feeling better today?" Connor asked.  It was a stupid question and he knew it, but he had to say something.

"I've got one hell of a headache.  Can you actually drive?"

"What?  Yes...course I can."

"And it's not my car you're driving?"

"It's one of the ARC trucks.  Your car's in the ARC car park.  I don't know where the keys are, and I don't suppose you can remember?"

Becker glared at him.  "Is that supposed to be funny?"

 "It was... no.   No, I just... no."

"And was that supposed to be in English?"

Connor decided not to reply to that one.  Becker really was in a stinker of a mood.  He wished Ditzy would hurry back.  Becker was shuffling around, apparently eager to be gone.  He picked up the rucksack from his bed and slung it over his shoulder.     

"I can carry that," Connor went to take the pack from him, but Becker swung it away.

"I'm not an invalid, Connor."

"Well, actually..." Connor started to point out, then thought better of it.  It wasn't as if it was heavy, there was hardly anything in there.  He looked at the wheelchair that someone had brought in earlier.

"Don't even think about it.  I think I can remember how to walk!"

"Maybe if I take the bag..."

Whatever it was that Becker would have replied to that was fortunately lost when the medic came back.

"Wheelchair now, or you don't get discharged.  No arguments."

"Sir!" Becker snapped at him.

"Yes, no arguments, _sir_.  Wheelchair.  Or another night in here.  Your choice."

Becker very reluctantly sat down, and started signing the paperwork that the medic had given him.  Connor wished Ditzy was coming with them.  He wasn't looking forward to this.  He'd never seen Becker in this bad a mood, for this long.  And the worst of it was that most of it was directed straight at him.  Grumpy was one thing, this was bordering on downright nasty.

But Becker had struggled with their relationship at first.  He'd eventually admitted that he just wasn't the sort of person who was good in an established relationship.  He didn't like the idea of the commitment, he disliked the thought of being trapped with just one person for the rest of his life.  Trapped.  That had been the actual word he used.  And at the time it hadn't mattered.  It had been before they got together properly, back when there were just the two of them lost in another era and it was just a case of being stuck with each other.  Properly trapped.  It had turned out that Becker didn't find that so very terrible after all.

If Becker was living now back in that point in his life, before Connor had taken over, before he'd realised how contented he'd be once he let go and stopped trying to keep Connor at a distance... If he really was stuck at that stage in his head then Connor didn't know how he could get him back.  Because if they hadn't been forced to spend time together back then he knew Becker would never have looked twice at him. 

He'd remember.  Ditzy had said this was probably only temporary.  It wasn't forever.  He had to remember.  Connor didn't know what he'd do if Becker stayed like this.  He took hold of the chair, trying to ignore the way Becker was glowering at the ignominy of being pushed around like the invalid he didn't seem to think that he was.

"Hope you've got your door key," Connor ventured, trying to make some sort of small talk rather than suffer the glaring silence.  "Forgot mine again, otherwise we'll have to try breaking and entering!" 

Becker reached into the front pocket of the rucksack, and held up a bunch of keys.  It looked like the ones for his car as well.  "At least one of us is organised," he growled, then muttered something under his breath.  Connor thought he was probably glad that he couldn't hear what it was. 

"I was joking about the breaking and entering," he attempted.  "There's a key in my desk at work I could go and get.  I made a copy because of always forgetting it.  That's why I've been better recently."

"Well when I can remember anything from _recently_ , I'll be sure to be unimpressed," Becker told him.  "Don't push me into the door!"

Connor stopped just in time and held the door ajar before wheeling Becker through.  He wasn't, he realised, making a very good impression.  Possibly it was worse than the recollections Becker still had of him.  He tried again:

"Ditzy emailed me a whole list of things to watch out for, things I need to let him know about if they happen.  It's all on here," he patted his jacket pocket, where his new phone was tucked away.  Luckily the sim card had been salvageable from the old one.  "It'll be fine."

"Let me see."  Becker held up his hand for the phone, and when Connor handed it over he spent several minutes looking through the email and its attachments, by which time Ditzy had finished with the hospital paperwork and caught them up.  Connor had never been so pleased to see him.

"Okay, you've got my number, Connor?" he checked.  "Any problems, any questions, call me at once.  Doesn't matter if it's three in the morning or anything, just do it.  I'll be over this evening, just to check everything's okay, and then again in the morning." 

"Making house calls now, Owen?" Becker growled.  "I'm fine."

"Yeah?  What did you have for dinner the night before last?"  There was, of course, silence.  "That's what I thought.  When you can tell me that, I'll start thinking you're fine.  Which car park are you in, Connor?"

"West."

 

"That's not close enough.  Go and get the car and I'll meet you at the main entrance.  Plenty of pickup points there. I'll take Captain Becker."

Connor was glad of the excuse to escape.  He wasn't looking forward to the time, very soon now, when there was only himself and Becker.  It wasn't a feeling he'd ever expected to experience.   

***

Captain Becker was 26 years old.  Apparently.

That was strange, because he was sure he’d only recently celebrated his 25th birthday.  He could remember going out with his men and getting very, very drunk.  Actually, he couldn't remember much beyond the getting drunk stage, but his memory loss only covered that one night.  He could remember the hangover the next day fairly clearly.  He could recall being told he was getting a new posting a few weeks later as well, and when he heard the details he could remember thinking it was someone playing a practical joke on him.  But no, he really was being employed to chase dinosaurs around for a living.  Very strange.

There were a lot of other things that were suddenly very strange as well.  Feeling as though he wasn't in complete control of his own life definitely topped the list.  It wasn't something he normally experienced.  It was worse than strange.  If he were completely honest about it, he would've said it frightened him, but that wasn't something he would ever admit to because he didn't do fear. 

It was terrifying, having his own mind refusing to work properly.  Perhaps when the throbbing pain in his head subsided and he could think straight again then things would start coming back to him, start making sense.  Those missing eight or nine months would be back.  Then he'd have control again.  Then everything would be okay.  Everything would make sense.

But there was Connor.  That didn't make sense at all.

He remembered Connor.  Connor was one of those people who managed to be incredibly clever and incredibly foolish at the same time.  He wore clothes that looked odd together and talked about Star Wars as if it were real, and could get himself into more trouble than all the rest of the team put together.  Becker also remembered that sometimes Connor didn't have the best personal hygiene, although that didn't seem to be the case any longer.  That was something of a relief.  Presumably that was his doing, though he couldn't recall it.  Nothing he recalled about Connor gave him any indication that they had anything in common, or that there was any attraction on either side.  He barely knew Connor, yet everyone seemed to think it perfectly okay to send him home with the man, trusting Connor to look after him.  From all the evidence Becker could recall Connor could barely look after himself.

The man in question was driving them home now.  Becker stole a sidelong glance at him.  Dark hair, dark eyes, handsome in an oddly quirky sort of way. Not really Becker's type, but then Becker had never really been quite sure what his type was.  And if this had lasted as long as people were telling him, then maybe he needed to reassess the definition of his type. 

Lieutenant Owen seemed to think that type was Connor.  Becker had worked with Owen before, they'd always got along and he respected the man's opinion.  He'd been pleased to find him already at the ARC when he'd been posted there.  But as soon as Connor had left the ward to fetch the truck, Owen had started lecturing him about the way he was behaving towards Connor, how worried Connor had been when Becker had been hurt, what a good guy Connor was and how he didn't deserve to be spoken to like that. 

It was fine for Owen.  His head didn't feel as if it were going to split open at any moment.  He didn't have to listen to Connor babbling away all the time as they drove home, making that headache worse and worse. 

Telling Connor how bad his headache was didn't help.  In fact, it seemed to spark off a fresh stream of chatter.  In the end Becker turned on the radio, tuned it to a news station and pretended he wanted to hear about all the things he'd forgotten were going on in the world.  The babble stopped, but he still had to hear the radio.  He wanted to turn every sound in the whole world off.

He kept reminding himself that he could lie down when they got home.  Close the door, put in earplugs and shut out the whole world.  He never normally had problems but the pain, the noise and the motion of the truck were making him feel a bit nauseous.  He closed his eyes briefly, wishing the journey over as soon as possible.

***

Becker had been quiet all the way home, staring out of the window most of the time.  Connor had tried to make conversation, but only got monosyllabic answers and eventually gave up when Becker leaned over and turned the radio on rather than listen to him.  Becker never, ever put the radio on.  It was distracting, he always said, it was an unnecessary noise.  Connor knew what the unnecessary noise was now, and he duly stopped making it. 

It was no better when they arrived at the flat.  Becker went up the stairs ahead of him, it was his flat after all, and unlocked the door. 

"Jesus..."

Connor didn't have to ask, he knew what the problem would be.  He had moved into an immaculate flat and had gradually turned it into Chez Connor.  Becker's protests had been ineffective and slowly Connor's clutter had spread across the flat, drifting out from the little box room Becker had originally given him for "all that junk" and swamping the entire flat with it.  There was an R2D2 model on the hall table, acting as a paperweight.  Connor's yellow hoodie lay in a heap on the floor under the coat hooks, where he hadn't quite managed to hang it up properly the night before last and then hadn't bothered to pick it up after it had fallen.  There was a half-finished can of Coke just visible on the floor beside one of the armchairs in the lounge.  As Becker continued into the lounge the entropy increased.  A stack of comics on the coffee table, the X box still strewn across the floor from their battle two nights before.  There were even the not quite empty pizza boxes lying there, where they hadn't bothered to clear up.  Connor had won their X box challenge, and his reward wasn't going to wait for anyone to waste time on something as unimportant as cleaning up.  Becker picked up one of the boxes and looked at the dried contents in disgust.  Quickly, Connor took it from him, feeling guilty.

"Yeah... Um... I'll clear up.  Maybe you should just sit down and rest?  I could make you some tea?"

"If the mugs are as clean as the rest of the flat, I'd rather make it myself," Becker told him.  "Just how many times have I gone down with food poisoning since you moved in?"

Connor wanted to say never.  He really wanted to, but it would be a lie.  And this Becker would probably see it as such, check it out with his medical records at work, and trust Connor even less.

"Twice," he admitted.  "But one of those times was due to dodgy fish in a restaurant, nothing to do with me!"

Becker would have laughed at him, probably teased him about the other time for the rest of the evening.  The man standing in their lounge didn't even crack a smile, just walked on through to the kitchen, picking up the odd mug or glass on the way.  It was as if a stranger had come in.  Cowed, Connor started to tidy up.  He gathered large armfuls of his belongings and deposited them in the box room.  It was a quick way to clear things and as long as the door remained closed it wouldn't be a problem.  It was what Becker had asked him to do when he first moved in.  Then after a while he'd stopped minding, and Connor was everywhere.  It had made the place feel like home.  Even Becker had admitted one night that when he was home alone he quite liked to see all the little things Connor had left around the place.  It made it feel like home, as if he were there even when he wasn't.  But that was a different Becker.

This one was coming out of the kitchen now with two mugs of tea.  Because he'd forgotten that Connor hated tea, and although he'd at least made him a drink he hadn't bothered to ask. 

Connor just put the unwanted tea down on a side table, belatedly remembering that Becker had grumbled at him in the early days to use a coaster.  Who knew where the coasters were now?  Probably buried under a pile of Connor's comic books somewhere.  He hastily shoved a newspaper underneath it instead.   There was no point in telling Becker it was wrong, he'd most likely only be angry, or not care, or both.  And his hands had been shaking a bit when he brought the tea in.  "You shouldn't be wandering round or carrying those.  Sit down and drink that.  I can clear up."

Becker did sit down.  He had that washed-out look again that Connor had noticed in the hospital.  He'd done too much.  That would be all Connor needed, if Becker collapsed or something because he was overdoing it, then used that as yet another thing to blame Connor for. 

"You're supposed to be resting," he reminded Becker, who just looked at him.  "When Ditzy comes round later, if he thinks you're not obeying orders he'll have you back in the hospital."

"Owen's enjoying ordering me around too much.  He'll be doing push-ups for a week when I'm back on duty," Becker growled. 

Connor grinned, that sounded more like his Becker, but he noticed there was no smile in return. 

"Remembering anything yet?" he asked hopefully, bundling together a pile of magazines and papers from the coffee table. Everything was going into the junk room.  He'd sort it out later.  It was a huge pile, and he struggled a bit to get it across the room without dropping any.

"Why are you dumping all that crap in my study?"

"What?" The harshness of Becker's tone startled him, and he lost half the papers.  As he tried to recover a few before they fell he managed to let most of the rest slide out of his grasp.  He scrambled to pick them up, but somehow seemed to be making more of a muddle than ever.  "That's my room... place to put things... you told me to keep all my stuff in there so it..." he paused, knowing the rest of what he was going to say wouldn't go down well.  "So it didn't clutter the rest of the flat."

It was worse, somehow, when Becker didn't say anything.  At least when he was being grumpy it gave Connor something to work with.  The man he'd come home with, who looked just like his lover, was gazing around the room.

"That's not working very well, is it?" he commented eventually.

"We've been busy.  You said it didn't matter and that we could sort it out when we got back... we went on holiday, down to Cornwall..."  An idea occurred to him and he abandoned the papers, heading back over to the coffee table where his laptop was sitting.  "You should look at the photos.  That's something on Ditzy's list, looking at photos of the things you can't remember, to try and jog your memory.  Here," he started it up then laid it on Becker's lap.  "Look under the Pictures section, it's all in date order... you can remember how to work a computer, right?"

"I've lost nine months, not twenty years!"

"Just checking.  I'll just... I'll clear this up while you're looking at them.  Maybe you'll remember something.  Yeah..."  He went back over to the papers strewn across the floor where he'd dropped them.  "I shouldn't have let it get this bad.  Sorry."

 

"I probably shouldn't have let you," Becker acknowledged.  He didn't say anything else, just clicked his way through the pictures, pausing on some, frowning at others. 

On Connor's fifth trip back to the lounge, he could hear voices, faint and tinny, coming from the laptop.  Becker was staring at it in what might have been shock.  Realising what he was probably looking at, Connor ran across and hit the pause button.  It really had been a great holiday, but maybe Becker wasn't quite in a place where he should start looking at their al fresco activities on a trip to a remote island in the Scillies.

"Sorry, I should've said, don't look at the videos.  Well, not that one anyway.  Or the one next to it... Um... It didn't jog any memories?"

Becker just shook his head, then closed the laptop, handing it back. "I'm sorry, Connor, but this is really weird.  I think I've seen enough for today.  I might go and lie down for a bit.  Can you wake me up when Owen gets here?"

"Okay.  Shout if you need anything."

Connor let him go, staying in the lounge to shut the laptop down properly, then almost dropped it when he heard an exclamation from the bedroom.

"My God!"

"Becker?"  Connor ran through to their bedroom, then stopped dead in the doorway.  To be fair, it did look pretty bad, and didn't smell so great either. 

The bed was still unmade, the sheets were still crumpled and stained from their exploits the previous morning.  Becker had asked him to change them at the time, and it had seemed so unimportant, something that could wait.  The whole thing felt like an age away to Connor.  So much had happened.  So much had gone wrong.

There were the clothes too. Becker's discarded t-shirt from his run, which doubtlessly reeked now.  Connor's socks, everywhere, underpants on the floor, a pile of what looked like fresh washing tipped over onto one side, contaminated by the dirty clothes beside it.  Becker turned slowly to look at him in horror.

"Tell me we don't live like this!"

"It was my turn to do the washing.  We were late for work.  I'm sorry!" Connor ran forward and started to gather up the clothing.  "I can fix this.  You just sit..." he cleared a space on the chair.  "Sit here, I'll fix it.  It was just... I forgot my key so I couldn't get in last night, it's not usually this bad."

"But it usually _is_ bad?"

"It... depends on your definition of bad.  Here," Connor reached up and opened a window, trying not to drop the bundle of dirty clothing he was carrying as he did so.  "That'll help.  I'll get the bed made, it'll be fine."

Becker, he could see, was itching to get up and help.  Connor supposed the fact that he didn't meant the head injury must be hurting more than he was letting on.

Throwing all the clothes out into the hallway cleared the room in no time.  Connor wasn't particularly looking forward to the mountain of washing he was about to have to start, especially as there was always a high risk of him putting a red t-shirt in with the whites and turning everything pink.  Luckily that only tended to affect his own clothes.  It was difficult to do too much damage to the blacks that Becker favoured both in and out of work.  Not that Connor hadn't had a few near misses.  He made the bed, which he knew wouldn't be up to Becker's military standard so didn't even look at him when it was finished.  It would've been fine for any normal person, he knew that much.  Who cared if you could bounce a ten pence piece on it anyway?  Well, aside from Becker?  He wondered where the Hoover was kept, and whether he should offer to run it over the carpet?  Maybe wipe down all the surfaces as well... there were coffee rings on the bedside table on his side.  Connor really wasn't very good at all the housekeeping stuff, that was Becker's domain.  He felt a bit guilty now, seeing all that was involved.  But Becker always made it look effortless... probably mostly because he did it when Connor wasn't around.

He plumped up the pillows a bit more, then patted the bed.  "There.  All done.  You want me to help you change?"

"Thank you, no.  I'll manage."  Becker got up out of the chair and stood there, waiting.  Connor had the odd feeling he was being dismissed.

"I could get you some water.  It's nearly time for more pain killers.  I'll do that.  Yes."  Connor fled, not wanting to be told to leave because Becker didn't want to undress in front of him.  Since when was the soldier so precious, he wondered?  Probably since he accidently watched that video on the laptop. 

He took his time with the water and tablets, and when he came back he found Becker sitting up in a bed that definitely looked a lot neater than when Connor last saw it.  Connor remembered how much he'd teased Becker about that, months ago, about how he'd taken the trouble to make this immaculate bed that would be a dishevelled mess within minutes.  Somehow he doubted that would be the case tonight.  

Connor sat down on the edge of the bed.  He wasn't sure, but he thought Becker moved away from him, just very slightly.  That really wasn't a good sign.  He handed over the water and tablets, and watched as Becker took them.

"I could take the sofa," he offered.  "If you need some space?"

"Thanks.  It's not... I don't.... I can't remember us, Connor.  It's... yeah, that's probably a good idea, thanks." Connor tried not to see the relief in his face.  So much relief that it hurt.  "I'll probably wake up tomorrow and remember and then..." He looked over at the pile of washing just visible in the hallway.  "Like you say, it'll be fine."

Connor nodded.  There wasn't really anything he could say, and even if there was he didn't think he'd be able to get over the lump that had lodged itself in his throat.  The rejection was there, and there was no point in either of them trying to pretend it was anything else.  If Becker didn't remember when he woke up in the morning, or the morning after, or ever... No, Connor really didn't want to think about that.

He gave a watery little half-smile, got up and headed out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.  He'd start on the washing, then check if Becker needed anything because he thought he might be able to speak without choking if he did it through a closed door.  And then when Becker told him he didn't need anything, because he probably would say that now even if he did, then Connor could stay in the rest of the apartment and keep trying to tidy it up and pretend this wasn't happening.  He wished that was the truth.

***

It hadn't been a good night.  Connor had heard Becker get up several times.  The first couple of times he'd got up too, and checked everything was okay.  It had annoyed Becker.  Everything annoyed Becker.  The third time he'd got up Connor heard Becker call to him before he’d even made it halfway across the room that everything was fine and to just go back to sleep, he could manage a piss on his own.  Connor didn't try to get up again after that.

There was no early morning run, naturally.  Connor cooked breakfast, and they ate it almost in silence.  When the doorbell rang, Connor almost ran to answer it, so relieved was he to have some other company.

Ditzy, brown hair askew, looking as if he'd just got up and not bothered to put a comb through it.  It was the first smile Connor had seen since the previous evening, which had been when Ditzy had called round the first time.

"How's the patient?  Still grouchy?"

Connor shrugged.  "He's gone quiet instead.  In some ways that's worse."

The medic patted his arm sympathetically.  "He'll remember.  It'll just take a little time."

"And what if he doesn't?  What if he never remembers?"

"It's early days.  Try not to worry about that now."  He waited, and eventually added: "Are you going to let me in?"

"Sorry." Connor stepped aside.  It seemed to be the thing he was saying all the time now.  Sorry I've made a mess of your home, sorry I've burnt the toast, sorry you're stuck with me...

Becker didn't want him sitting there whilst Ditzy changed the dressing, so Connor went off to the kitchen to clear up.  That seemed to be all he was doing now.  And clearing out the study so that he could put the guest bed down would be a priority for the day, he didn't want to spend another night on that uncomfortable sofa.

It was a long time before the medic emerged, and he didn't look quite as cheerful as usual when he did so.  Connor supposed he wasn't the only one on the receiving end of Becker's grouchy mood. 

"Connor, I've got some files in the car.  Lester said something about you're not an invalid and he doesn't see why he's paying you to sit around at home all day... or something like that, so there's some work as well.  Sorry."

Connor shrugged.  Work seemed like a huge relief right now.I It would be something else to think about.  He followed Ditzy out to the car.

The medic opened the car door.  "Sit down for a minute."

Connor blinked, wondering where the files were.  He got into the car. 

"He's a difficult patient.  How're you managing?"

"Not great," Connor admitted.  "When's he going to start remembering?"

"I don't know.  Could be today, might not be for months."

"I don't think I can stand this for months," Connor admitted.  He looked back at the apartment block.  There was a shadow in their kitchen, near the window.  He knew Becker was watching them, knowing he was being discussed.  "You need to hand me those files." 

"There aren't any files."

"Great.  He'll know we've discussed him.  That was a stupid lie!"

"Sorry, it was all I could think of.  And we're not discussing him, we're discussing you and how you're coping.  You can tell him that."

"He won't believe me."  Connor's shoulders drooped slightly under the admission.  "He doesn't want me living here, I can tell."

"He'd be okay by himself now, as long as we keep checking on him.  I don't think he's in any danger."

Connor nodded, knowing the truth.  "He's told you he wants me to leave, hasn't he?"

The hesitation before Ditzy answered was an answer in itself.  "He's... finding it difficult to adjust.  That's quite common.  When he starts to get his memory back he'll need you here to help him through it.  But it might be an idea to give him a bit of space in the meantime.  Better for both of you.  Think about it anyway."

Connor nodded.  "Is that it?  Everything you wanted to say?"

"Come into work for a bit each day if you're staying here.  Give yourself a break from him."

"I'll think about it."  Connor got out of the car and shut the door, but the other man kept talking to him through the open window.

"I'll be back this evening.  Think about what I said, and call me if there're any problems.  Even if it's just that you can't deal with him any more.  Okay?"

"Fine." 

Connor headed back to the flat.  He could see Becker's shadow moving away from the kitchen window.  Sure enough, when he opened the door the man was standing right there, waiting.  Connor shut the door behind him, then turned to face Becker.

"Where're the files?"

"There aren't any.  He wanted to talk to me about how I was coping with you."

"And?"

"That's it, that's all he wanted."  Becker gave a snort of disbelief, so Connor added: "It wasn't about you.  Whatever you said to him gave him the idea things weren't going well."   

"He told you that?"

"He didn't have to, it was obvious.  Any more questions?"  Connor couldn't help it, the constant attitude from Becker was getting to him.  "This isn't my fault, you know?"

"I thought it was.  I thought you were checking your mobile and not paying attention to a dinosaur, then I got attacked trying to save you.  Wasn't that what you told me happened?"

"You did save me.  And yeah, you're right, it's my fault."  Connor sighed, tired of it.  He turned away and went off to the lounge.  It was better in there now, tidy.  He sat down heavily on the sofa.  Maybe Ditzy was right and he should go off to the ARC for a while.  Becker followed him into the lounge and sat on one of the armchairs.

"So, what happened?"

"What?"  Connor couldn't help sounding startled.  Becker had him so much on edge now that any question sounded like an accusation. He wondered what he'd done this time.  "I told you, he was just worried about how I was coping with you."

"Not Owen.  You and I.  How did we get together?  Because I'm sorry, but all I can remember of you is someone who tended to let disasters follow them around like a bad smell, and it's not as if we have anything in common so... I just want to try to understand."

"Understand how someone like you could possibly end up with someone like me?" Connor finished bitterly.  "Why don't you just say what you mean?"

"You try not remembering a great chunk of your life and see how much you feel like pandering to someone else's delicate sensitivities, Connor!" Becker snapped back.  "Just tell me.  You're supposed to be helping, that's what Lieutenant Owen told you to do isn't it?"

Connor wondered whether it would be worth it.  If Becker's memories never came back he was going to be pouring his heart out to a man who didn't care for him and probably never would.  Before they'd got to know each other, long before they'd got together, there had been the disdain but it was unfounded.  Now it was bolstered by the apparent horror of their relationship.  He might never get his Becker back again.  And that time was so precious a memory, such a special time.  Connor didn't really want to share it with the person his lover had turned into.  A version of the truth then. 

"I fell through an anomaly," he ventured. 

The response was predictable.

"Of course you did.  You're a disaster area."

"Do you want me to tell this or not?  Because you can stop with the sarcastic comments if you do."

"Sorry.  Go on."

"You followed me."  He could see Becker about to make another comment, and glared at him.  This time, at least, Becker refrained from saying anything.

"There were these creatures.  I don't know what they were or which time we'd arrived in.  We thought it might be the future, but there was no way to tell, no reference points.  None of those future predators either, thank God!"

"Yeah, I read up on those before I joined.  Not looking forward to meeting them."

"You've already met them.  Several times.  These were something else.  Not as bad, but it took a while to get away from one of them and then we couldn't get back to the anomaly in time."

"It closed?"

"Yeah.  We nearly died there then another one opened to a place that was okay, but we were trapped there for a while.  Everything changed after that.  You'd stopped thinking I was weak and useless and a liability and all the things you're thinking now... and you're wrong about that, by the way... because we'd had to survive out there together.  We came back here really good friends, and then we got a bit drunk one night and stuff happened, and then... I never left."

It was enough.  Just thinking about it hurt.  He didn't want to go into any more detail, not to the stranger sitting on the armchair opposite.  Becker never used that armchair normally.  He always slumped down on the sofa and if Connor was around he'd curl up beside him.  The single chair was a warning to stay away.  Connor's story didn't move him back to the shared space on the sofa.  Connor's story didn't appear to have moved him at all.  But then it was just a few words, why should it?  It wasn't the same as living through it.

They sat there in silence for a few moments.  Awkward silences like that were starting to become the norm.  Finally it was Becker who broke it.

"You know that Owen says the doctors are saying that there's a chance I'll never remember?  That perhaps the blow caused permanent damage?"

Connor didn't know.  How could he, when Becker refused to let him stick around for any kind of consultation?  "I'm sorry."

"Yes.  Well," Becker shuffled a little uncomfortably in the seat.  "I was thinking, just while I'm trying to get things back to normal... I was thinking it might help if you moved back in with Abby for a while.  Just till I remember what's going on.  I thought it might be easier for you."

"You mean you thought it would be easier for you!"  Connor couldn't help snapping back.  He'd known this would be coming, but it didn't make it any less hard to hear.  He could see how guilty and uncomfortable Becker was starting to feel every time he looked at him.  Guilty because he knew that at some point he was going to have to end a relationship that no longer existed.  Uncomfortable because he probably had no idea how to go about it. 

Connor knew Becker.  It had taken a while to get him to open up, months just to get at little pieces until there was enough to see the whole thing.  Becker didn't do relationships.  Not long term ones like theirs had turned into.  He didn't want the commitment, he said he didn't want someone getting left alone because his job was so dangerous and he didn't have a long life expectancy.  There was never any mention about the fear of being left himself, of being hurt, but Connor knew it was there, and had seen it get worse the longer they were together and the more Becker loved him.  He'd lived with it himself long enough to see it in someone else.  None of those fears were there now because the love wasn't there either.  What was left was hurtful and insulting and had taken the best relationship Connor had ever had with anyone in his entire life and thrown it away as if it were nothing.

"I'll ring Abby," was all Connor said.  He got up and went back to his room.  Or what had been his room, as it didn't look as though it would be for much longer.  Closing the door, he sat down on the edge of his bed and tried to hold back the tears.  It didn't work for long.  As soon as he rang Abby, and started to explain, he could feel it all welling up in his chest.

Abby wasn't stupid, she'd seen what was happening and agreed right away to come over and pick him up.  He needed to pack.  He needed to find boxes, and cases.  Abby should bring some if she could.  She took all that in, speaking to him in a calm and gentle tone that he knew she normally reserved for soothing an injured or frightened animal.  He wondered if that was how she saw him now.

"Don't get upset, Connor," she told him finally.  "He's going to recover, and you'll be putting all this behind you."

But that recovery seemed a long way off, and as soon as he put the phone down Connor threw himself down on his bed and broke his heart into the pillow.  He vaguely heard the front door slam, and knew Becker had probably heard him and gone out, gone for a walk because he wasn't supposed to be running yet, gone anywhere that he didn't have to deal with an ex-boyfriend that he didn't want around any more. 

Knowing there was no fear now of being overheard, he didn't hold back.

***

One week away from work was too long for Becker.  Two weeks, and he was almost climbing the walls.  The doctors refused to sign him as fit to work while there was still a gaping hole in his memories.

It was stupid.  He could remember everything he needed to, and catch up on the rest from files.  Lorraine had put vast quantities of information on DVD for him and brought them over, and he was making his way through them.

He liked Lorraine.  She was efficient and no-nonsense and didn't spend long periods of time trying to persuade him that he should be taking Connor back and trying to make a go of things.  Instead she sat with him, assumed he remembered nothing and went through everything accordingly. 

The doctors weren't overly pleased as they thought it might slow his recovery and confuse him if he couldn't tell whether he was actually remembering his own memories or just what Lorraine told him.

She didn't touch the time he'd spent with Connor through the anomaly though, just left him with his own briefing on it and refused to go any further on the subject.  So, in her way, she was passing comment after all.  It just wasn't as vocal as Abby's had been when she came to collect Connor.  Connor himself had fled out to her car as soon as he could, but Abby had come back on some pretext about forgetting her phone, and as soon as she closed the front door behind her she started on him and never mind that he was supposed to be on medical leave and recovering from a serious injury.  In the end he'd had to open the front door, knowing she didn't want Connor to hear, and that finally made her stop talking and leave.  He felt guilty enough about asking Connor to go, he didn't need her trying to make him feel worse.  But it wasn't fair on Connor to prolong what Becker believed was inevitable. 

After two weeks, reluctantly Lieutenant Owen had him signed back on for light duties.  It was something.  He could take up his fitness regime again, as long as he was careful.  Becker agreed to everything, then did just what he wanted.  He'd missed his long runs in the morning.  Exercise was good for you, and to hell with overdoing it and all the other namby-pamby excuses the doctors were coming up with.  Of course, he told them he was just going on a gentle walk...

It felt good to be running again.  It was his way of starting the day, getting himself moving, firing up for whatever was going to be thrown at him.  Headphones in, iPod strapped to his arm, he could go for miles and totally lose himself in the steady beat of his footsteps as they pounded the street, heading out to the park and then circling once, twice before heading home again.  He'd missed that feeling, the endorphins firing through his system.

He'd wandered into the kitchen, put the kettle on and pulled out two mugs before he even realised what he was doing.

Coffee, he thought.  Connor only likes coffee.

But that was all there was to it, and it was probably just something Connor had said before he moved out anyway.  It wasn't like a proper memory.  It didn't mean anything.

He didn't bother telling the doctors.

At work, he did his best to avoid Connor.  It wasn't easy, the young man was everywhere, or seemed to be.  Perhaps it was just that the hours Connor spent in his lab coincided with the times Becker was in the armoury and they both emerged at the same time because of an anomaly alert or something.  Or perhaps they were just in sync.  Becker tried not to look at Connor's face, there was something about the hurt in his eyes that gnawed at him.

It was for the best, he told himself.  Kinder in the long run to make a clean break than to keep Connor hanging on.  He'd probably been about to do that anyway.  Six months... he never stayed with anyone for anywhere near that long.  Four months was his record, and the last few weeks of that had been unbearable for both of them.  Yes, he was sure that when he got his memories back, if he got them back, that's what he'd want.  Everything needed to make sense again, be back the way it was.  It wasn't as if he would've fallen in love with Connor or anything.  It _was_ for the best.  Definitely. 

His home, at least, felt more comfortable now.  It was back to the immaculate state that he remembered, something familiar in a world that wasn't anything like the one he remembered.  The mess he'd come home to on that first day had been horrible, he still couldn't understand how he could possibly have let things slide so much.  But it was fine now, a small haven of comforting familiarity, and he needed that.  It was stressful, working at the ARC with people who he couldn't recall but who all seemed to think they knew him well enough to laugh and joke with him.  It was very hard not to snap at them all constantly, particularly when they were joking about things he couldn't remember. 

After a few more days, Owen gave up and let him go back to most of his regular duties.  It was a help, because it meant less time spent around the ARC and Connor.  Except when Connor came along on the anomaly shout, and always seemed to find the most dangerous place to stand, and was generally just a distraction.  That wasn't so good.

Another thing that wasn't so good was the new team leader.  Danny Quinn, Becker was one hundred per cent certain, had been put on this earth to annoy him. 

"I don't like you, do I?" he asked Quinn one afternoon driving back from a particularly trying session where they were attempting to herd a couple of iguanodons back through an anomaly. Quinn's assistance had, in Becker's opinion, made it take twice as long and injured one of Becker's men in the process.  Nobody else seemed to think that was the case.  It was annoying.

Danny just laughed.  "Everyone likes me!  You liked me so much you were thinking of dumping Temple and running off with me!"

"That's not funny, Danny," Abby warned from the back seat.

Connor just sat there beside her, and Becker could feel his eyes boring into the back of his neck.  He didn't look around, he didn't need to.  Connor never said anything, the whole journey back, and no matter how many quips Danny made after that in increasingly desperate attempts to make up for the gaffe he didn't laugh at a single one.  When they arrived at the ARC Connor was the first one out, and he was gone before the others even had their doors open.

Danny and Sarah were getting progressively friendlier, and they all knew that Danny's stupid comment had been just that, but Becker wondered if Connor thought differently.  He was half-tempted to go after him, but as there was no way he could be sure that he hadn't been about to run off with someone, even if it wouldn't have been Danny, there was no reassurance for him to offer.  Besides, it was probably for the best if it helped Connor move on.  Connor needed to move on.  It was kinder in the long run.  He kept telling himself that.

"You're a jerk, Danny," Abby hissed at him as she hurried past.  "Like Connor's not hurt enough already."  She saved a particularly angry scowl for Becker, then followed Connor. 

Danny smirked at her retreating figure.  "She loves me really!"

"You're not her type," Becker told him, then added for good measure: "Not mine either."

"You don't even remember what your type is," Danny pointed out.  "And you're not even prepared to try to find out.  Didn't have you pegged as a coward, Becker.  Guess I'm wrong again!"

Becker wondered how Danny got through life without constantly having someone punch him.  He wondered how many times he actually had punched him, because there was surely no way he'd spent all those months in that man's company without losing his temper at some point.  Becker tried to ignore him.  He was still convinced he'd done the right thing.  Connor would get over it, they would've split up soon enough anyway.  They had nothing in common.  Nothing.

He opened up the back of the truck and started unloading, aware that Danny was still standing there, probably wondering whether he should say more.   Becker waited, ready to tell Quinn exactly what he could do with any more advice.  He couldn't remember the man and didn't see any reason to listen to him.  And he certainly didn't get the same guilty feeling he got every time he even looked at Connor, there wouldn't be any difficulty with that holding him back.  But then a second truck pulled into the parking bays, and his men started to pile out, and when he looked around again Danny was gone.

***

Three weeks passed.

It was a Sunday morning and Becker had woken up with a headache.  He tried to ignore it as he still got them regularly.  The doctors said it was swelling from the injury and it would take time to ease off.  They gave him painkillers and left him to get on with it because that was really all that they could do.

Exercise helped a little, sometimes.  He tossed down a couple of ibuprofen, dragged on a t-shirt and joggers then searched around for his iPod.  

The music didn't help the headache at first, whilst the painkillers were still kicking in.  It was set to random, always, but the fact that he didn't recognise half the tunes on there was making it even more random than usual.  He set it to an old playlist, far down the menu, buried amongst all the unfamiliar artists.

It had only been about nine months that he had lost at most.  Surely there couldn't be that many new bands emerging in that time?  The new stuff wasn't quite to his taste, either.  He suspected Connor had been using it.  When he got back, he'd start deleting.

It was like a virus.  The Temple Virus, he wanted to call it.  There were still things turning up at his flat at the back of cupboards that Connor had missed when he'd cleared things out.   Small things, an odd sock at the back of a drawer, the adapter for one of his games machines, the cafetiére in the kitchen that never used to be out on display but Connor drank so much coffee that there was no point in putting it away.

He wondered if that was a memory?  Everything got mixed up with what people had told him now and he couldn't tell.   He put the cafetiére at the very back of the cupboard and buried it behind some mugs.

The running helped.  Every morning, just as he’d always done.  Out and down the street, across the road, down through the underpass and up into the sunshine again.  Out past the river, over the bridge and down onto the towpath.  Running, pounding his feet against the worn and uneven path, his iPod going through song after song after song.

He didn't recognise the next one.  Never heard it before in his life and yet he was moving his lips to the words and singing, because he knew it, knew every word.

And there it was.  A memory of Connor, naked and dishevelled, sprawled across their bed, grinning up at him, tossing him the iPod from the bedside table.

"I put some other stuff on there too.  Bring your taste a bit more up to date!  It's like dinosaur rock on there!"

He was deleting it all as soon as he got home.  No need to tell Owen.  No need to tell anyone anything about this.

But he couldn't get the image of Connor out of his head, nor the memory of how he'd been feeling when he'd looked down at him.  Because that couldn't be right.  That couldn't be right at all.

***

The next time was at night. 

Becker was asleep.  It had just been a dream.  It _was_ just a dream, and that was what he was remembering, and anyway he'd probably fucked Connor into the mattress half a hundred times if they'd been living together for all those months.  Dreams were always screwed up, twisted versions of actual events and he'd never bottom, not for anyone ever again because he was always going to be the dominant one in any relationship.  He certainly wouldn't do it for someone like Connor who was a natural bottom if he'd ever seen one. 

That was what he'd assumed was the attraction.  Connor probably let him do anything he wanted.  That would've been it.  That would definitely have been it.

It was something else to forget to tell the doctors about, because it was a dream and dreams didn't count. 

He didn't take his iPod with him on his run that morning.  On his way home from work he bought a new one, and spent the evening loading it up. 

***

Connor was starting to get used to the way things were.  Oh, it still hurt all the time and whenever he saw Becker get that cool appraising look that bordered on curious but probably wasn't, he'd still feel a little flutter of hope.  He didn't know why Becker looked at him, and in the end he thought perhaps it didn't mean anything, he was just staring and who knew what Becker wanted?  It wasn't Connor, that was for sure.  Then sometimes he'd look up and Becker would be staring at him.  But Becker would look away, and wouldn't look again.

Once, Connor had gone over and tried to follow it up.  The anomaly they'd been monitoring had closed without incident, Becker was alone, packing up, getting ready for the long drive home.

"Pity they're not all as easy as that one!"

Becker froze.  Just for a moment, but Connor was sure he didn't imagine it.  Was it really that awful, just having a conversation with him now?  When he continued, Connor was sure that his movements were quicker, hurried.  Becker wanted to get everything packed up and away as fast as possible.

"Waste of our time."  He started to dismantle the locking device.  "Did you want something?"

Connor wondered if the answer to that might get him punched.  Instead he tried: "I was just wondering how you...if you were... if you were remembering anything yet?"

"No."

It was a little bit too quick to be believable, a little bit too harsh and decisive.  Connor had nothing to lose, he pushed it further.

"Only the way you were looking at me back then, it was as if you were..."

"I wasn't looking at you, Connor," Becker interrupted.  "I was thinking, and you were in my line of sight.  Haven't you ever done that?"

"It looked like you were remembering something."

Becker sighed.  "Connor, I'm sorry, but you need to stop kidding yourself over this.  I'm not getting my memory back.  We're done.  You need to move on.  I have."

That cut, and although he knew it was probably supposed to, that it was meant to make him move away, Connor clung on grimly.  He didn't entirely believe Becker.

"If you can't remember, you can't make that judgement."

Becker looked up at him then, and held his gaze.  And then Connor wished he'd never opened his mouth.

"I can remember enough.  So, yes, you're right about that.  I was trying to spare your feelings."

That was worse than anything else Becker had ever said.  Connor felt slightly sick, and part of him wanted to run back to one of the other vehicles and just curl up in the back until they were safely back at the ARC and he could go back to Abby's and not set eyes on Becker again.  But there was an implication to part of what Becker had said that he hadn't missed.  He didn't want to know the answer, but he knew that wondering was just going to tear at him until he found out.

"Got it."  He took a breath, then asked: "And when you say you've moved on, you mean there's someone else?"

There was a long pause, then: "Yes."

"Who?"

Another pause.  "Someone I picked up in a club.  You don't know him."

"Wh..what's he like?"

"Connor, please, just leave it."

"I want to know."  He didn't want to, but at the same time he needed to.  Need won.

Another sigh, heavier than the first.  "Tall.  Blond.  Works in a gym.  Any more questions?"

That told Connor all he needed to know, really.  He took a step back.  "Do you love him?"

"Of course not!"  Then he must have realised how that sounded, because he added: "It's early days."

And those last few words killed off any hope Connor had left.  If he was a stronger person he might have found it in himself to offer some trite statement of good luck.  If he'd loved him less he might've shouted and raged at him instead and told him what he thought of the way Becker was treating him now.  Instead, he turned and walked away, heading almost blindly over to Abby who was laughing and flirting with her soldier boyfriend over by one of the other trucks.  She saw the look on his face and immediately just opened her arms to him, close enough friends that he didn't have to say anything, she just knew.

After that, Connor tried not to notice when Becker stared at him sometimes.  He had a feeling that even if Becker remembered everything he still wouldn't go back to Connor.

He thought they'd been happy.  He wondered what it was that he'd done wrong.

***

Five weeks.

The dreams were getting more frequent.  It wasn't just Connor, there were other things coming back to Becker as well, all of it just in tiny snippets that made no sense and that was more frightening than not having any memory at all. 

A beach he didn't think he'd ever been on, in blazing sunshine, lying back, doing nothing.  He never did that, it was boring.  Why would he remember it?  Sitting in a cave somewhere staring out at the endless rain on a landscape that was far too green.  He wondered if that was a memory from the anomaly Connor had talked about.  Another world, another time, it might have been interesting to recall it.  Connor standing in the middle of a forest, staring down at his phone.  He had no idea why that should stick out as a memory. 

Right there in his home, in the kitchen, Connor walking in with a small crate of beer.  It was nearly always Connor, in any of the fragments, but none of them provided an entire picture.  Connor was probably the only person who could help him make sense of it, and Becker wasn't going to ask him.  Pushing him away hadn't quite worked in the way Becker had expected it to.  He had thought Connor would quickly move on and find someone else, that he'd get over it and they'd be able to work together again.  Instead it just seemed to be getting more awkward.  He now felt ever more guilty and confused when he saw Connor but he tried to just push the feeling away.  It was for the best.  He kept telling himself that.  It was the right thing to do.

He knew he should be telling the doctors about the memories but he'd missed two appointments now and was getting dodging the ARC medical staff down to an art form.

Becker wondered if he should move house.  That might not stop the memories flickering at him, but it would probably stop him continuously seeing rooms and items that reminded him of those lost moments.

***

Six weeks.

"Hold on!"

Becker groaned, recognising the medic's voice.  He'd tried to slip past the door unnoticed, but Lieutenant Owen must've been watching out for him.  Still, he outranked him.

"Anomaly alert, got to go, sorry."

"Not if I declare you unfit."

"I'm fine."

"You've missed two appointments.  Your medical records all go through to me you know?  So, I can't let you go out there again until I've declared you fit for duty.  You know the rules."

"I'm fine.  And I outrank you."

"I'll be the judge of whether you're fine or not.  And, the ranking's a technicality because actually in this instance you don't."  He stepped back from the doorway to let Becker in.  "Take a seat please, _sir_."

"The anomaly alert..."

"Not your problem, you're not declared fit for duty.  I've already told Saunders he's in charge today and why.  If you'd got past me you wouldn't have got much further."

Because he knew he was going to have to go through this at some point, Becker gave in.  Owen shut the door behind him.

"Okay, usual thing.  I'm going to test you for any physical problems..." He put his hand up to stop the protest before Becker had done more than open his mouth.  "Which I have to do, as you know, and yes I know it's not going to show anything wrong."

"This is a waste of time, and your hands are bloody cold," Becker grumbled, but submitted grudgingly anyway.  He knew that he was lucky they had let him back in the field as quickly as they had, and pissing off their senior medic wasn't going to make the examination go any faster.  Once Owen had satisfied himself that there wasn't anything wrong with Becker's eyesight or motor functions, he quickly filled in a few notes on his laptop.

"All done?" Becker asked hopefully, although he knew that wouldn't be it.

"Not a chance.  Coffee?"

"No thanks.  And I prefer tea."

"Right, it's Connor that's the coffee drinker, isn't it?"

"Yes.  And that's irrelevant," he added, seeing Owen note something down again.

"Really?   He was complaining to Abby that you'd forgotten when you were first injured.  What else can you remember now?"

"Why don't you ask Connor and Abby?" Becker responded drily.  "They're evidently experts." 

"I can sign you off until you get an appointment with a specialist, or you can answer my questions and maybe go back to work in an hour.  Your choice.  Makes no difference to me.  Which is it?"

There was a very long list of questions on the medic's screen.  They all had tick boxes against them scored from one to ten.  It was going to be a very long hour.

"All of them?"

"Yeah, but those can wait.  I need to know what you're remembering, where the gaps are, when you're getting the flashbacks, what's sparking them off, all that sort of thing."

"There's nothing."

"So you've suddenly stopped keeping your appointments for absolutely no reason?" 

"They're pointless.  I'm fine."

"You told Connor you were remembering things."

"Good of him to let you know."

"Josh was at Abby's.  He heard.  He's the one that told me.  Abby had quite a lot to say as well.  So, how much?  How long?"

Becker gave in.  "Bits.  Just little bits that make no sense, all jumbled together.  There's a cave, I think it must be when we were trapped through the anomaly.  And there's other things, I remember quite a lot now about what happened to Professor Cutter, and how Danny joined the team.  I didn't have any of that to start with, it was all gone."

"That's good.  Why didn't you say something?"

"I didn't think it mattered until I've got it all back.  And the little bits and pieces are just confusing."

"Something must trigger them more than others."

"When I'm asleep.  So I don't know if they're dreams or reality.  Sometimes, when I'm on a run, listening to music."

"Anything this morning?"

"It was wet.  I decided not to go for a run today."

"Yet you used to go out daily, and expected us to as well.  How many have you missed in the last week?"

"It's been raining a lot."

Owen nodded, and made some more notes.  It infuriated Becker.

"You're not a bloody psychiatrist!"

"No, but you've refused to go to one of those so I'm stuck with the job.  So, you're avoiding an activity you used to take up religiously in rain, sleet or snow.  What's the problem?  If it was me, I'd want to remember."

"Not if you were shagging Connor you wouldn't."  He'd muttered it under his breath, but he could see from the unimpressed look on Owen's face that the medic had heard.

"That's what this is about?  Still?  Mate, you need to get your priorities straight, because you're going to hate yourself when it all comes back to you."

"I've been told it might not."

Owen shook his head.  "Not now you're remembering some of it.  Chances are you'll get it all back.  The mind's a funny thing, it takes a while to heal just like anything else.  This other guy you're seeing, does he know you're missing a great chunk out of your memory?"

"Other guy?"

"The one you told Connor you're seeing.  Or have you forgotten him too?"

"Never existed.  I thought it would make Connor move on."

"Very smooth."  Becker didn't miss the sarcasm in the other man's voice.

"I don't see that it's any of your business.  I've told you what you need to know.  Connor was a mistake."

"So you can recall your time with him?"

"Just... no, not really.  But I know.  I don't do relationships for that long."

"Me neither."

Becker narrowed his eyes.  He knew the medic had been married for a couple of years now, and suspected he was being set up.  "You're a crap shrink, Owen.  Out with the point you're about to hammer home."

The other man shrugged.  "I never stuck with anyone.  Then I met the right person and all that changed.  And I'm telling you, you've already met the right person for you, and if you keep pushing him away you're going to regret it.  There's only one mistake, and you're making it right now."

"I'll bear that in mind."

"You know what else?"

"I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"Well someone needs to, and I've known you longest.  So, here it is.  I know these injuries can cause mood changes while you're recovering, but you've turned back into something worse than the obnoxious little shit you were when you first got here.  Nobody likes it.  Nothing to do with how you've treated Connor, though nobody's impressed by that either because we all like him.  You're arrogant and inconsiderate.  We're all making allowances because of what's happened, but that won't go on forever.  So, go away, think about it, take a couple of days and then come back.  Do everything that makes you remember things, even if you don't want to.  Spend a couple of days running round in the rain listening to old music if you have to.  Because you're not just losing Connor, you're risking losing friendships and even the respect of your men if you don't lighten up.  I'm signing you off on sick leave.  You're only going back to work when you can prove to me you're making an effort to get back to normal."

Becker stared at him, horrified.  He lived for his work, even if right now it was running round chasing dinosaurs for a living.  "I can carry on working.  I'll make an effort."

"Seven days.  Then come and see me again.  Or a proper shrink, if you prefer."

A proper shrink would probably have him off work for months.  Owen was the lesser of two evils and they both knew it.  Becker relented. "You'll do.  And if you ever repeat any of this to anyone, I will kill you.  Can I go?"

"Just the NHS psychobabble checklist to do.  Score it one to ten, one being not at all, ten being all the time.  How depressed would you say you feel?"

"Right now?  Ten."  Becker scowled.  The questions didn't improve as they went on either.  But he was going to have to answer them if he wanted to ever get back to work.

***

Connor sat in the back of the truck as they headed back towards the ARC, watching the world as they passed it blur into green and grey.  He had a whole week stretching out in front of him now.  Seven days when he wouldn't have to creep around the ARC trying and failing to avoid Becker because he'd be at home... at his home, not theirs any more.  It was like a little reprieve.

He tried not to think about Becker at home with his new lover in their bed.  They'd probably be holed up for the whole time.  Becker probably didn't even care that he was off work because the new man was so physically perfect.  A gym instructor.  It was his job to keep his body perfect. They probably went running together every morning, the new man wouldn't lie around in bed waiting for Becker to come back, he'd be out there leading the way, with his muscled and athletic body.  He wondered which gym it was, whether he could visit them all until he saw the man it had to be, and then he could really visualise the pair of them going at it all night.

"Connor."

 Abby nudged him, and he realised he'd been tensing up, clenching his hands into fists, scowling at the world outside.  It didn't do to dwell on it, he knew that.  But he couldn't help himself.  He shifted in the seat, forcing a small smile.  She'd been so kind to him.

"Sorry."

Seven days, Saunders had said.  He wouldn't see Becker for seven days.  Maybe it would make it easier.  Or he could leave, and never see Becker again.  One day perhaps he'd be ready to do that, but not yet.  Now he would rather just watch him and wait, because at least he was there and in Connor's life, even if it was only on the very edges.  He clung to those edges, desperately.

They were all he had.

***

It was the cave again.

Of all the things Becker dreamed of, the cave was always the one that kept coming back to him.  There was nothing there, just a view of the prehistoric landscape, assuming that's where the memory came from.  He'd read all his reports.  He’d even read Connor's report on it, not that it had been much use as they had been largely concerned with all the creatures and plants they'd encountered and not a lot else.  None of it gave him much of an insight.  They'd found a cave and sheltered in it, and that was all.  Why would he keep remembering sitting in that cave staring out at the valley?  He could ask Connor, of course, but that wasn't really an option any more.  Since he'd pushed him away with the lie about the new boyfriend Connor had kept his distance.  It was what Becker had wanted, what he'd aimed at with the story.  Connor needed to stop nursing hope and move on, and the sooner he did so the better for him.  It wasn't that Becker wanted to be unkind, but if he could make Connor stop pining after him as quickly as possible then he would.  It would make life less painful for both of them, and it would be easier on Connor in the long run.

The trouble was, most of the little snippets Becker remembered were time he'd spent with Connor, which meant he was still the only person who could tell Becker more about what he was recalling.  The others tried, when it was work and they could help with it.  But the snippets of a beach seemed to be from the Cornish holiday he'd taken with Connor because he'd found photos on his laptop and they'd triggered more memories.  He'd seen a few on that first day, when Connor had handed him his laptop and told him to look, but they'd meant nothing at the time.  And then there was that video of the two of them.  That wasn't on his laptop, just on Connor's.  But the photos were on both.  He'd wanted to delete them, wipe away the image of himself holding a surfboard, soaking wet, grinning like a thousand birthdays had all come at once.  Grinning at the person holding the camera, which he knew had to be Connor.  And he looked so damned happy.  He couldn't remember ever wanting to look at someone else like that.  Except once, years ago, and the person he'd been with back then had got tired of him, moved on to someone else and thrown all his love back in his face.  He was more careful after that, and surely he wouldn't have been stupid enough to let his guard down for Connor?  He looked through the pictures again.  None of them were familiar, or brought back any sort of memory, but the way Connor looked at him... the way _he_ looked at Connor...  What if everyone was right?  After the way he'd pushed Connor away, it wasn't something he even wanted to consider.

But everyone was wrong.  Of course they were.

Becker closed the files but didn't delete them .  That could wait for another day.  No rush.

***

On the fourth morning of his enforced leave, Becker rolled over to turn off the alarm, then rolled back, instinctively reaching out for someone who wasn't there any more.  It wasn't the first time he'd done it either.  His hand slid across the crumpled cotton sheet, feeling how cold and empty the bed was on that side. 

It was early, and there was nothing much to do that day.  He could go for a run, a long run, wear himself out and follow medical orders at the same time.  There was the old iPod shut away in a drawer with all that music he'd never quite got around to deleting because he didn't need to now that he had the new one.  If he took the old one and used that he could suffer the crap on it and run for miles.  Then he could report back on Monday morning that he'd tried everything Owen had suggested and unless he wanted to eat that questionnaire the medic would sign him back as fit to work.

It had rained overnight, and the pavement outside his flat was still damp, patches of moisture slowly fading away.  It would be muddy on the towpath, so he took the shorter way to get down to the park, the tarmaced paths lacing through it were always the best place to go.

The old iPod had fired up a track again that he'd never heard of.  He half-expected to start singing along, but nothing brought up any sort of recollection, even a subconscious one. 

The park was fresh and green, and the rain brought out the scents of the plants and trees.  Far away on the other side of the lawn he could see a couple of teenagers who'd brought their dog out for a run.  They were throwing a Frisbee and the dog was leaping up to catch it.  Often as not it missed and went racing after the thing then galloped back happily with it, loving the game. 

Connor had talked about getting a dog.  They couldn't, not in the flat, but they'd discussed moving to somewhere with a garden.  They'd even looked at a place, thought about it seriously then decided that with their jobs and the hours they kept it just wasn't fair on the animal.

He stopped running, slowing to a walk, surprised by the clarity of the memory.  Then shocked again by how much he'd wanted to get Connor that dog, how he'd looked into care for it during the day without telling him, had investigated increasing the mortgage to cover the cost of the larger home, had presented the whole plan to him and watched his face light up...

God, that was something different.  That was something really different.  Even at the time he could recall being nervous, wondering if it was the right thing, wondering if he was ready to take that extra step and extra commitment.

That didn't feel like something he'd do.   But if he had done it, and his newly-found memory was telling him that he had, then it wasn't something he would've done for someone he was looking to dump at the earliest opportunity.  They'd both decided against the dog in the end, but they'd kept the idea of buying a home that was theirs instead of just his.  At weekends they'd started driving around, looking at what was available.

That was the moment when, for the first time, Becker finally started doubt himself.  He began to wonder if maybe he'd been wrong about his feelings for Connor before the accident, and whether what everyone else was telling him could possibly be correct.  And if that was the case, then he'd pushed away someone he shouldn't have done, behaved every bit as badly as they all kept telling him he had.   

But still, he couldn't remember why.  He couldn't remember what had changed, why he'd started to feel differently about Connor.  Crucially, he couldn't see what it was that made Connor so special.  Especially now, when he wandered about the ARC liked a kicked puppy and veered away from Becker whenever their paths crossed, head down, not wanting to meet his gaze.  He was such a victim, and Becker had never really wanted to spend much time dealing with people who had that tendency.

"Watch out!"

"Sorry!"

The flying disc was suddenly in his face, he flinched and it rebounded harmlessly off his shoulder.  Scowling at the two boys, who both looked apologetic and possibly a bit scared, he threw the disc back before the wet, muddy, eager dog that was bounding towards him decided he was its new best friend and jumped up at him with those filthy paws.  It barked happily and ran off after the disc.

Another time and he might've gone over and given them a lecture about health and safety and suppose that had been a little old lady or a baby that they'd hit.  But he couldn't be bothered, it was just a minor annoyance, he had too much on his mind.  He ran on again, letting the unfamiliar music drift over his head, a backdrop to his thoughts.

There were options.  He could try talking to Connor, getting the gaps filled in.  There had to be more to their time on the other side of the anomaly than the reports or Connor had told him, he was sure of that.  That option might hurt Connor even more than he had already, especially whilst Becker was still unable to recall that much, and he really didn't want to do that.  Also, he wasn't sure if he could deal with the hope starting to light up in Connor's face again, and then see it die when Becker didn't give him the response that he hoped for.  Not that it should matter because Connor was just someone that he... well, he didn't know what Connor was to him any more because the memories were starting to make him have conflicting feelings.  But it shouldn't matter so much what Connor thought, he knew that.  And talking to him wasn't going to help anything or anyone.

Owen was probably the best bet.  The ARC medic had to keep everything confidential, and was going to have to continue to do so.  He wouldn't be able to tell the rest of the team just how much Becker was starting to recall, especially if he was ordered not to.

 Another lap of the park first.  He lowered his gaze, watching the path in front of him, trying to get into a rhythm, move faster.  He turned up the volume on his iPod.  Anything to try to block out his thoughts, the growing concern that maybe he'd been wrong.

And then, suddenly, there was a whole lot more.

Oh, it didn't all come pouring back to him in a giant revelation.  But he could remember the anomaly, remember the creatures they’d been trying to drive back through.  They were vicious and clever, and looked like nothing he'd ever seen before.  They got around some of his men, trapped one of them, attacked another.  He could see Connor had got stuck on the wrong side of one that really didn't like being cornered, and the only escape option open to him had been the anomaly. 

"Go through!"

Connor hadn't fallen through.  He'd run, on Becker's own instruction.  Why had he said he'd fallen?  Why hadn’t Becker remembered this before?  It seemed so clear now.  The creature had followed him through, still charging, and Becker had gone after them.

He'd half-expected to find a bloodied, ripped mess, but somehow Connor had managed to scramble up some rocks, and the creature was struggling to follow him.  Becker shot it once, twice, and it was down.  It was still twitching, the thick armour of its skin probably meant he'd only stunned it.  They needed to get out of there.

"Connor?"

There had been enormous relief on the young man's face when he’d seen Becker there.  He'd been through anomalies before, knew the danger, knew the risks of getting trapped there.  He didn't come down though.

"I'm stuck."

Well of course he was.  Becker hadn't been surprised, climbing up the rocks to fetch him then slipping himself.  Everything was loose underfoot, treacherous.  He’d taken one wrong step, and then everything started moving under his feet and they were both slipping and sliding back down towards the ground.  Becker had landed first and cushioned Connor's fall.  He'd pushed the young scientist off him, ignoring the apologies, pulling Connor to his feet and taking a step towards the anomaly.

It had flickered.  That wasn't a good sign.   They did that right before they closed, he'd seen it before. 

"Move it, Connor!"

They’d run for it, ignoring the scrapes and bruises from their rapid descent and heading for the one thing that could save them.  Too late, as they’d approached it the anomaly had flickered one last time, closed, and they had been trapped.

Becker could remember the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when that happened, recalled looking at Connor and seeing the fear in the other man's eyes, seeing the way he'd carried on running right up to the anomaly site and stopped there, turning slowly, almost as if he was trying to work out where the anomaly had gone.   Perhaps he thought looking around would mean that he'd spot it somewhere else and everything would be okay again?  Connor had turned in two slow circles.  All either of them had spotted was that they were both a very long way from home.

"They open again, right?" Becker had checked.  "If it opened here once, today, it'll reopen at some point?"

"They're random.  It could be thirty years from now.  A hundred.  And it won't necessarily be on the same spot."

Shit.  Becker really hadn’t wanted to hear that. 

"You're not helping."  He glanced back at the creature.  It was stirring.  Any moment and it would be on its feet, heading for them.  "We need to get out of here, now!"

They ran for it.  He could remember that, running through the alien, dusty land they'd found themselves in.  All the reports he'd read had said the past was green and lush.  Typical that they found the one with nothing living in it and got trapped there.  The creature, whatever it was, didn't follow them, still dazed from the shots.

"We shouldn't go too far from the anomaly site," Connor gasped.  "When it reopens, it's probably going to be the same spot."

"That thing's back there, Connor!  Just keep running!"

He did, to be fair, and Connor wasn't one for exercise.  Eventually Becker slowed, realising Connor couldn't keep up the pace.  He recalled his first proper look at their surroundings, the barren wastelands, everything a dull yellowish grey colour.  There was no foliage anywhere, no water.

"Where are we?" he asked, expecting an answer that included long words and dates billions of years in the past, but Connor had just shook his head, as bemused as Becker was. 

"I don't know."

They'd needed to get under cover, find shelter, but there was nowhere to go.  In the end they decided to climb one of the ridges, hoping there was a view from the top, an idea of where to go.  It left them vulnerable, but realistically their chances of survival were pretty much nil out there anyway. 

At the top, whilst Connor had searched in vain for any sign of another anomaly, Becker had taken an inventory.  Two guns, his assault rifle and the small SIG-Sauer pistol strapped on his thigh.  The former only had about twenty rounds left, and wasn't going to protect them for long.  The pistol had more, but the creature they'd just left probably wouldn't even notice the bullets hitting it.  If there were more of them out there, they were dead. 

"There's something..." Connor pointed.  "Way over on the other ridge.  Looks like another one of those creatures."  He'd looked back at Becker, and the soldier had seen the raw fear in his face.  "I dropped my gun when I went through the anomaly."

Of course he had.  It didn't matter, they were dead anyway.  Becker handed over the pistol.  Everyone deserved a chance to go down fighting, and Connor was being a lot stronger than he ever would have expected.  Some people would have fallen apart out there, but he didn't and maybe that would be the measure of how long they managed to survive out there.  So they sat there, watching the thing that wasn't any sort of dinosaur either of them had ever seen before, the thing that probably wasn't a dinosaur at all.

They'd never found out what it was, or where they were, but they knew enough to realise it wasn't the past.  Later, when they'd got home he could remember trying to make sketches for Connor, who had been desperate to find out.  One of the creatures had been killed on the other side of the anomaly, but it had been taken away for study.  They'd never seen it again despite Connor's best efforts.  Their security clearance only seemed to go so far after all and there was apparently a whole science project working on some of the creatures from the future that went far beyond the ARC. 

Connor had thought that if they didn't move then the creatures wouldn't be able to sense them.  It had gone against the grain for Becker, but he'd done it anyway, sat there on that hilltop staring out at the bleak landscape, listening to the cries of... something.  Gradually the light had faded, but the wails and cries continued out into the night.  

Hunger and thirst was probably going to get them if nothing else did.  Becker had got a water bottle, but they'd almost drained it already, and the squashed Mars bar in Connor's pocket was long gone.  He'd kept back a couple of bullets when he handed the pistol over.  One each, just in case they needed them, because he wasn't going to let either of them end up torn to pieces or slowly dying from dehydration.  Connor had just nodded, and agreed the promise Becker had requested from him.  Another point in Connor's favour, though whether he could have actually followed through was a different matter.

Becker couldn't remember how long they were out there.  It couldn't have been that long, it was too warm, too dry.  But it had still been dark when Connor nudged him and pointed back down into the valley, at the one thing that could save them.  The one thing that did save them.  He'd never been so glad to see an anomaly in his life.

How they'd got back down in time was still lost to him.  He had a vague recollection of being chased, of shooting something, but that was all.  And then sunlight, and fresh air, and waiting... guarding that anomaly until it closed in case one of those things came through after them.

It wasn't home.

Connor thought it was later than many of the other times they'd encountered, beyond the times of the dinosaurs.  He'd given it a name, one Becker always struggled to remember because it wasn't something he'd ever heard of and certainly couldn't remember now with his memories still shot to pieces.  They'd found some ape-like creatures, and Connor had got excited because he thought it was early man, then realised it really was just some kind of ape after all and maybe it was later than they thought.  But it meant they could live there, out in the lush forests they'd found.  There was food, and water, and it was just a matter of waiting until an anomaly opened to their own time.

Perhaps not quite that simple.  Connor had blanched at first at the idea of killing something, though he'd got over that fairly quickly.  There were still predators out there: big cats that sneaked up on the unwary, lupine creatures that prowled the night, snakes and insects with who knew what kinds of poison?  But they'd been lucky, and they both knew it.

They were out there for a couple of months, which meant his amnesia was probably for a longer period than the eight or nine months doctors were estimating because they wouldn't have factored that in.  Owen probably had, but it would have confused the hospital records so he must have decided to leave it. 

Becker couldn't recall all the details, but bits and pieces came back to him.  Both of them standing in the river, shirtless, trying to spear one of the fish, Connor good enough at it by then that they could have a proper competition.  Loser had to gut it and cook it.

That cave again.  He still couldn't remember how they found it, but he could recall sitting in the entrance, warmed by the fire where Connor was cooking their latest catch.  Evenings there seemed to be the best, watching the sun go down across the valley, both of them together.  Connor could point out the constellations in the night sky, stars that were long gone in their own time.  That had killed any hope that maybe they were back, maybe they were just in some remote rainforest.  That, and the strange creatures that didn't quite look the way they did in modern times.  But at least it wasn't the land with the dry yellow dust where they would both have died.  No, all things considered it wasn't so bad.  It was like army survival training, and he knew all about that.  If he was honest, Becker knew he secretly loved the challenge of it all.  He thought Connor might struggle, but actually he was a surprisingly quick study, and soon turned into far more of a help than a hindrance.

He couldn't quite remember when things changed.

Perhaps it was just gradual, and there wasn't any specific moment, and maybe it was just the fact they were thrown together, because that's what Connor said when they got back, that was all it was.  And if it was, then that was okay too.  The reason didn't really matter, it was the way things turned out that mattered.  That was all.

It was late afternoon, and it was still raining.  He'd sat in the mouth of the cave, looking out at the valley, watching and waiting for the elusive anomaly to return.  Except he wasn't, he was watching Connor running back from the river with their dinner, trusted now to manage it by himself without letting himself get eaten by some predator.  Connor had two fish on his spear and brandished it proudly, grinning up at Becker triumphantly. 

"Your turn to cook!"

And he couldn't help grinning back at the sight of Connor, soaked to the skin, scrambling up the hillside, still holding up those fish like a trophy, and then a few moments later trailing rivulets of water behind him as he reached the shelter of the cave. 

It wasn't the predictable thing either, because although Connor had sat there by the fire in his underpants, trying to dry off, all Becker had done was hand over his jacket and try not to laugh at the unflattering striped boxers Connor was wearing, which looked even more ridiculous topped with the heavy black jacket.  So it wasn't some lust thing either, not really.  It was later, perhaps, when Connor had curled up on the floor next to him, still wearing the jacket, and fallen asleep by the fire, his face relaxed and vulnerable at the same time even under the growing beard.  That was when he'd forgotten himself just for a moment, and reached down to push back Connor's hair where it was falling across his face.  It was just the lightest touch, just for a moment, but Connor's eyes had flickered open and looked up at him.

And that was all it had taken, really.  Connor had lied about that, too.  They'd got together out there, stuck in the past.  He wondered why Connor hadn't wanted to tell him that, why he'd deliberately misled him about how things had been?  There'd been a few moments of uncertainty, and he'd known Connor would just stare at him like that for eternity if he didn't make a move, and he could've just pulled his hand away and pretended it was nothing.  But by then it wasn't nothing so instead he deliberately stroked his fingers through the short, spiky, slightly uneven cut he'd given Connor the previous day and Connor leaned into his hand, rubbing against him then turned to plant a kiss in his palm, very chaste, very sweet.  That was probably the last chaste moment of their relationship and possibly lasted at least another five seconds before Becker leaned down and captured his mouth and things got a whole lot sweeter.

No wonder he remembered that cave.

It wasn't as if he hadn't caught Connor looking sometimes, even before they'd got trapped together.  It wasn't as if he hadn’t known the attraction was there.  But it had taken that extra time for him to feel the same, and it was better for that.  Everything was better for that.

He wasn't sure how long it was before another anomaly had opened because that was all still a bit of a mystery.  There'd been an earlier one, but it had led back to the world with the yellow dust and the impossible monsters so they'd stayed put and guarded it, praying that nothing came through to diminish their dwindling supply of ammunition.  Nothing did.  They'd obviously hit a lucky streak, or perhaps it led to a time when even the monsters had died out.

The one that took them home appeared early one morning.  They'd been curled up together, taking warmth from each other as well as from the fire.  The days had been getting shorter and cooler, and Becker had begun to prepare for the winter they’d known would be coming, storing wood, trying to find ways to preserve food.  They had no way of knowing how harsh that winter was going to be, and neither of them was sorry not to have had to face it. 

Although Connor was supposedly keeping watch, he wasn't doing the best job because it had been Becker who’d noticed the anomaly first, sparkling through the trees.  He nudged Connor, who just wriggled closer.

"Anomaly."

It was strange, he'd thought, that Connor didn't look particularly pleased.  Probably because he thought it was another one back to the world they couldn't live in, another false alarm.  It was with a distinct lack of enthusiasm on Connor's part that they'd walked down to it, hesitated and stepped through.

The first thing they heard was the hum of a car engine, and they knew that they'd made it back to civilisation at least.  Even if it wasn't quite their own time it would do. 

The cars looked modern enough as well, although the anomaly had opened close to a busy road and was attracting curious stares from motorists.  It was looking pretty hopeful.  Soon enough, the familiar ARC trucks were approaching and they knew they were home.

They'd just stood there, waiting together. And Becker hadn't thought about what they were going to do, or how they were going to live, until Connor pulled at his arm and whispered:

"Listen, I just wanted to say, I'm not expecting anything after this.  I know it's just been a thing, because there was only us out there, and...we're friends now, right?  I just didn't want it to be awkward." 

Becker hadn't known what to say.  He hadn't even thought about it until that moment, and before he could tell Connor that, tell him he wasn't sure he wanted to go back to being just friends, his men were running up to them, aiming shotguns and shouting, then Danny appeared and the shotguns vanished and everyone was smiling and somehow Connor wasn't at his side any more.

And then it had been awkward, of course it had, and they'd been briefed and told everything except what really mattered, and then they'd cleaned up and gone home and everything was supposed to be back to normal.  Except it wasn't.

The first night he'd just missed having Connor there, holding him whilst he slept.  And then the second night had been worse, and he’d lain awake wondering whether he could ring Danny and get Connor's number, because he'd never needed it before and never bothered, and Danny had everyone's simply because he liked texting stupid jokes that weren't funny and he was just annoying.  So no, he decided against Danny, because there was always a chance Connor wasn't going to be interested now and then he'd probably never hear the end of it.  That might've continued on to the third night too, because he still hadn't got that number.  But then they were chasing an anomaly again on the third day and were both out in the field, and it didn't seem so very hard to wander over to Connor whilst he packed up the locking device and oh so casually invite him round for beer and takeaway to see some movie they'd talked about a million years ago. 

There hadn’t been any chance that Connor wasn't interested, he could see it in the way the other man's face lit up at the suggestion.  It surprised Becker just how much of a relief that was, and he knew he was smiling back at Connor because he couldn't help it.

They'd started on the beer first, and Connor had brought another pack of it.  That had stopped all the awkwardness pretty quickly.  And then they never watched very much of that movie, and most of the takeaway went cold.

Afterwards, in the small hours of the morning, he’d woke up to find Connor sitting in the bedroom chair, watching him. 

Becker vaguely recalled murmuring something along the lines of: "S'cold, come back to bed." 

Connor had stayed where he was, and eventually Becker had sat up, and asked what was wrong.  Because there was something, obviously.

"What I said, when we came back.  Are we still friends, or..." he'd gestured at the bed.  "What's this?  Friends with benefits?  Just an itch because I'm still there?  Something else?  I just..." he'd spread his hands, confused.  Becker had never really got why he was confused because it seemed pretty straightforward to him.  Perhaps he just sent off the wrong signals.  "I just need to know."

"Something else," he'd said, and when Connor had looked at him questioningly, he'd added: "I missed you when we got back.  So come back to bed."

"And go in the morning?" Connor still didn't move.

"We have to go to work.  But you could come back here with me tomorrow night.  If you wanted to."  

"Seriously?"

Any other time and he'd have given a dry, sarcastic response to that.  But Connor had looked so hopeful, so eager, he'd just reached over and pulled him back down into the bed, holding him close.  "Seriously.  I'd like that.  But if you don't let me get some sleep I might rethink it."

Connor had snuggled in close, a huge smile on his face.

He'd stayed the following night, and the night after that, and moved all his stuff in at the weekend.  And then he was home, and they were happy, and Becker's life had suddenly been just so much better.

Shit.

Becker had stopped running some time ago and was now standing there on the path in the same park he ran through several times a week, lost in thought and the glut of memories that had decided to suddenly spring back to life right there and then.  It was still patchy, there were still gaps in what he remembered, and much of their life after Connor had moved in was still lost to him.  But there was enough.

It wasn't as if everyone hadn't warned him he'd feel like this.  Those people, his friends, they'd still felt partly like strangers, the closeness of the past months had been forgotten, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to take their word for anything.  They'd all been right.  God, he was so stupid.  Connor... he needed to talk to Connor.

On a normal day he'd have had his phone right there, zipped in his pocket.  But signed off duty there had been no need for the uncomfortable weight and it was still lying at home, useless.  Turning, he headed back for the flat, running rather than jogging, wanting to put things right.

Everything was just the same as he'd left it, yet it looked totally different now.  There was Connor's junk room, door ajar, immaculate and spotless.  Soulless.  He picked up the phone, and began to dial... and then suddenly he thought of the last time Connor had been in the flat, of that sobbing he could hear from behind the closed door because he'd told Connor to go.

Becker put the phone down.  He couldn't call.  It was going to take a lot more than a phone call to put this right.  And maybe he didn't deserve for it to be put right?  Perhaps he didn't even deserve to ever have Connor back after the way he'd behaved?

He pulled off his t-shirt, and headed for the shower.  Sometimes the refreshing deluge of the water helped clear his mind, almost as if it washed the problems away.  It didn't work that morning.  There were other memories, tiny little pieces that felt as if they should mean something but didn't because there wasn't enough of them.  They flitted around on the edge of his consciousness, tantalising him with things he thought he should know, might want to know.

He had another three days before he had to go back to work.  Three days before he had to face Connor.  Part of him wanted to race over there and sort it out, try to put things right.  The other part... he'd never, ever thought of himself as a coward before.  He was always the first one charging in whenever there was any danger.  But going back and facing Connor after the things he'd said, the way he'd hurt him... it was horrible.  And then there was the true coward's way out - he could just leave things as they were and never deal with it at all.

Before Connor came along, that was what he would've done.  It wasn't an option now.  The thought of going back to the empty life he'd had before Connor filled his world, the empty life he had now... it was unbearable.

There was nothing left of Connor in his house, everything had been taken away or been cleaned up and now it was as if he'd never been there at all.  It was pristine, everything in its place, clean and neat and tidy.  Soulless.

Becker towelled himself dry, still trying to work out what to do for the best.  He could still call Connor, beg him to come back.  Or go over there... no, he'd be at work by now.  Maybe go over in the evening... and face not just Connor but Abby too.  She'd supported Connor through all this, she wasn't likely to stand by quietly.  And he had no wish to argue with her, he was glad she'd been there for Connor for the past month or two.  It would be easier if he could get Connor alone, but then he knew he didn't deserve anything to be easy after the way he'd treated him.  He cringed just thinking about it.

Maybe if he called Abby instead, tried to get her on side first?  Or perhaps try Saunders, get him to soften his girlfriend up, get through that way?  But Becker could also recall just how unpleasant he'd been to Saunders the previous week when there had been a problem locking an anomaly.  Owen hadn't been kidding about the way he'd been treating his men.  Saunders was a good deputy and had probably been leading the teams better than Becker himself over the past week or two.  Nobody was going to be overjoyed to see him back.  They'd probably prefer it if he stayed away permanently.

That left Danny and Owen, really.  Danny was a wild card, you never knew quite what you were going to get.  He might help, or he might come up with some totally obscure idea that just made things worse.  Probably the former, but Becker couldn't risk it.  He got dressed, then went out into the hallway and picked up his landline.

"Owen?  Becker... Yeah, your idea worked.  Don't sound so smug..."

***

Connor had been dreading the day Becker returned to work.

Actually, that wasn't entirely true.  He'd been looking forward to it as well, with a thrill of masochistic anticipation because it meant he'd see Becker again and even though they weren't together any more he wasn't in a place yet where he could walk away and start to rebuild his own life.  That would come, his friends kept telling him, but they never said when.  He'd loved Becker too much, the hurt had been too deep and too sudden.  The healing wasn't going to be quick.

It was like a drug, the way he was drawn to look when Becker came in, watching him on the security cameras as he made his way through the ARC to the medical centre.  When the door closed behind him, Connor tried to go back to his work, but he wasn't really paying attention.  His gaze was continually falling on the CCTV screen, waiting until the door opened again, waiting to see which way Becker went.  It had only been five days, not the full week that had been threatened or promised, depending how you looked at it.  Perhaps he was only back for a review, or to pick up medication or something.  Part of him hoped to see the man heading out again, another part prayed that he'd be allowed back to work and Connor could see him again, hear his voice again. 

It wasn't a good place to be, emotionally.

There was a tap on the door, and Abby came in, not even waiting for a response.  Connor quickly reached over to switch the screen off, but unfortunately Becker chose that moment to emerge from Medical, and Abby noticed.

"Oh Conn, you've got to stop this," she sighed. 

It was all right for her, he thought, shacked up with her handsome soldier who adored her.  Easy to tell someone else to let go of a relationship.  Not so easy to do it yourself. 

"I was just... I wanted to know if he was coming back.  Thought it would be better to be prepared rather than run into him on the next anomaly shout."  Connor turned back to his work.  It was a prototype for an upgrade to the anomaly detection device.  He'd made quite a mess of it, and couldn't even remember what he'd done.  At least it hadn’t been on the live version.  As long as nobody turned this one on, everything would be fine.  "Looks like he is."  Becker hadn't headed back in the direction of the car park, anyway.  And according to Saunders, he hadn't really bonded with his men since the accident, so was hardly likely to be paying them a social call. 

"Forget him, he's not worth it, not the way he is now.  Listen, Josh and I have been talking, we could all go away for the weekend, maybe invite Danny and Sarah too.  Go down to Brighton or somewhere.  What do you think?"

"Go for it.  I don't really feel like joining you, but you four have a great time."

Abby sighed again.  "The idea was to cheer you up."

"Thanks.  But no thanks.   Look," he held up the little prototype.  "I've screwed this up, I need to start again from scratch.

"Connor..."

"Thanks, Abby, you've been great, Josh has too. It probably isn't much fun having me hanging around in your love nest all the time and you two deserve a weekend away.  Honestly, I'll be fine."

She didn't let the idea go without a fight, trying to persuade him for nearly ten more minutes, but eventually she gave up and went away.  Connor turned the CCTV back on, but there was no sign of Becker anywhere.    Perhaps he had gone home after all.

Sorting out the prototype could easily take the rest of the day, probably take several days.  He bent over it again, undoing some of the wires and relocating them, trying to remember what the changes were that he had made.

Behind him, the door opened.  The footfall was heavier this time, definitely male.

"Connor."

Somehow the sound of the familiar, beloved voice could make his blood freeze now.  Connor couldn't remember why he had half-thought it would be good to have Becker back in the ARC.  Whatever the soldier had come to tell him, it couldn't be good news.

"I'm sort of busy," Connor attempted, gesturing at the useless device.  That didn't stop Becker coming in and closing the door.  Connor looked back over his shoulder, feeling a slight panic.  It was the first time Becker had actually made an effort to get him alone since the accident.  He was probably going to tell him something horrible, or ask him to leave the ARC or something.  Connor couldn't leave the ARC, it held his life's work.  He belonged there.

"We need to talk."

Connor froze at the dreaded words.  Perhaps the gym instructor had moved in.  Or Becker was going to leave.  Or he was going to tell Connor to leave.  _We need to talk_ never meant anything good.  Never.  He wasn't giving up his job though, he was never going to find a job he loved as much as that one.  He got to his feet, and turned to face Becker. 

"You're back at work?"

"Yes, Owen's relented and let me back early.   I've convinced him I'm safe."

"Must be horrible for you, not being shacked up with your gym instructor all day."  Connor mentally kicked himself for saying it, rising to it, as soon as the words were out.  But they were out, it was too late.  And if he sounded childish it didn't matter, Becker didn't exactly look on him as an adult now anyway. 

"There's no gym instructor."

"Got fed up with him too?  That was quick."  Again with the bitterness.  He just couldn't help it.

"There was never any..."

The anomaly alert blared out across the loudspeakers, drowning the rest of what Becker was trying to say.  It was a huge relief to Connor, who took the excuse to try and escape.

"We need to go."

"No, just wait and hear me out, there's never been any gym instructor, I lied.  I'm sorry."

Connor stared at him in disbelief, then tried to push past, shoving Becker away when he tried to stop him.  "No.  I have to go.  Whatever it is you want to say, I don't want to hear it."

Becker glanced at the door, and Connor knew he was probably itching to go anyway, he was always the first to go racing off at any alert and after the prolonged sick leave he would want to prove himself more than ever. 

"Sit in the truck with me then, we can talk while I'm driving.  I really need to talk to you."

"Okay," Connor had no intention of doing so, but it would mean an escape from this.  Becker lying about something as horrible and hurtful as that just took things to a whole new low.  All he wanted to do was get out of there.

He managed to push past Becker, and ran down the corridor to the ADD, Becker at his heels.  Most of the team were already gathered there, and he felt Lester's disapproval at their lateness burning into him.  The man didn't even need to say anything.  Connor was aware that Becker had stopped right next to him.  He could smell his aftershave, just faintly.  Connor loved that smell, it held so many memories.  He took a step away, closer to Abby, so that he couldn't smell it any more.

"You'll love this one Connor," Danny commented.  "It's on Guernsey!  We've got choppers coming in to pick us up!"

Helicopters.  Great.  Becker was going to just love it if Connor threw up all over him.

"As long as you're not piloting any of them," Becker muttered.  "We'll probably end up on the wrong side of the anomaly again!"

Danny grinned.  "You remember that!"

"Don't look proud of it!  There's a helicopter stuck billions of years in the past because of you!  We're not supposed to change things."

"Yeah, Neanderthal man probably found it and brought the Wright brothers forward by a few million years!"

"You don't know what it did."

"Nothing.  It would've rusted away.  And I think I liked you better when you couldn't remember anything."

"Can't say the same."

"If you two could stop the pissing contest for just a few minutes, there's an anomaly waiting to be closed," Lester reminded them, then added with a grimace: "Just so you know, Connor, the pilot's have been warned to carry extra sick bags but you'll be cleaning up if you miss."

They all laughed.  Connor didn't, he hated it when they had to use a helicopter, or indeed any other small aircraft.  Becker, he noticed, wasn't laughing either, just looking at Connor.  Probably disgusted.  The day was just getting worse and worse.  At least Becker wasn't trying to continue the talk.  He probably wouldn't, as long as there were others present, and Saunders distracted him just then with some query over the vehicles they might need to procure on the island once they landed.  Connor took the opportunity to make an escape, hurrying off to his locker to grab a few essentials then hopefully get to the helipad before Becker and get onto a different flight.

No such luck.  The soldiers were all loading up the choppers when he arrived, and it was impossible to tell who was getting on which one.  Ditzy came over and handed him a couple of travel sickness tablets along with a bottle of water.  Connor knew he'd be needing the water later to wash away the taste.  No matter how good the tablets were that Ditzy prescribed, he was always sick on small planes and helicopters.  It wasn't as if he could help it, and he wished the rest of them would stop making such a joke of it.  At least Ditzy didn't laugh at him for it.  He was regarding Connor curiously though.

"Nice to see the captain back on duty," the medic said eventually.  "Don't you think?"

Connor knew he was fishing for something.  Probably whatever horrible thing Becker wanted to talk to him about.  Perhaps that this would be his last anomaly, he should leave.  Or that Becker was about to leave, get a transfer somewhere else.  Or anything.  He just nodded, non-committal, then almost backed into Becker who had appeared behind him.

"You're in this one with me, Connor.  Get on board, I won't be a moment."

There was no getting away from it, so Connor obeyed, slipping out the other side the moment Becker turned away to speak to Ditzy and running over to the other helicopter that was just about to start up.  It was full.

"I'm supposed to swap with someone," he called.  "Anyone."

"I'm not sitting with Captain Happy," Peters told him.  "He had me mucking out the mammoth's stall the other week just because I'd forgotten to reset the security codes on time.  Five minutes late, that was all."

"Connor's not going to want to sit with him either," Abby pointed out from the opposite seat.  She started to undo her seatbelt but Sarah was faster.

"Here you go, Connor."  Sarah jumped out and let him take her place.  She liked the helicopters as little as he did and was probably glad of the temporary escape.  Connor let Peters haul him in, and he sat down, praying Becker wouldn't notice he was gone until it was too late.  He didn't need that talk, not whilst he was sitting in mid-air throwing up half his breakfast.

They rose rapidly.  If Becker noticed he'd gone and reacted, Connor didn't see it.  He felt queasy already, and wasn't going to look back or down.

***

Becker had only turned his back for a few moments and Connor was gone. 

He didn't want to look back at Lieutenant Owen and see the 'told you so' expression that he felt sure would be there on his face.  He'd already heard enough of that in the medical unit that morning and on the phone the previous day.  Sorting out his relationship was going to be a long process.  If there was ever a badly-timed anomaly, this was the one.  The last thing he wanted to do was have to pour his heart out with his men and the rest of the team all in earshot. 

Sarah Page was heading towards them.

"Do I need to come on this one?" she called as she approached.  "Connor's got my place.  I don't mind staying behind."

Becker was never quite sure what it was that Sarah was needed for on the field trips.  In the labs, yes, but out in the field?  Sometimes he suspected that it was just because Danny liked having her around, and that opinion was bolstered by the enthusiasm with which Danny moved over to help her into the chopper.  Becker wasn't really in the mood to improve anyone else's love life though, especially as she'd helped Connor get away.

"There's a space," he told her.  "Take it if you want."  His mood must have translated into his tone, as she grimaced, took Danny's proffered hand and climbed in.

"Nice to feel wanted," she muttered.

Becker looked up at the helicopter taking Connor away.  He knew how she felt.  This wasn't going to be easy.

***

The anomaly was right in the middle of a cornfield.  The farmer, Mr Turrell, wasn't too pleased at having it there, especially as several triceratops had come through and were thoroughly enjoying his crop.

Connor had thrown up twice on the helicopter.  He could see by the faces of his companions that they wished they were on the other helicopter.  Or that he was.  They'd probably complain about the swap and then find nobody had actually asked for it.  It was the least of his worries.

He was the last one off the helicopter, apart from the crew who both glared at him.  It wasn't as if he could help it.  If they'd had more warning he could've taken the tablets earlier.  As it was they had just come straight back up.

Becker was already off the other helicopter by the time Connor emerged, and was heading for the anomaly with several of his men.  Connor could hear them shouting to each other about locking the anomaly.  He hung back, leaving them to it.

"Connor!" Danny called.  "Over here."

He obediently trotted over to the team leader, hoping Danny was going to give him something to do that kept him as far from Becker as possible.  Danny had been pretty considerate about that when Becker had returned to work before, he was hopeful that it would happen again.

"You stay back here with Sarah."

Connor tried not to feel insulted.  After all it was what he wanted, to keep as far from Becker as possible.

"I need you to look up those things and give me any info you can on how dangerous they are."

"They're triceratops," Sarah pointed out.  "Everyone knows what they are, they're the poster boys of the dinosaur world."

"Thought that was T.rex?"

"Of _nice_ dinosaurs.  These eat grass, don't they, Connor?"

Sarah, evidently, had seen Jurassic Park. 

"That's right," he told them.  "They're a bit like rhinos.  You don't want them charging you, but..." he paused, suddenly remembering something.  "Don't scare them, Danny."

The memory of the Ankylosaurus incident still haunted him.  Abby was off with the soldiers, doubtless trying to make sure that didn't happen again.  The anomaly hadn't been locked yet, but that wouldn't take long once they'd set up the device.

Danny, however, was grinning at him.  "Now where's the fun in that?" 

Connor had a bad feeling about that.  He got his laptop out of his backpack and switched it on.  Not that he really needed his database this time.

"Stay back here," Danny reminded them, then headed off after the others.

Sarah pursed her lips, obviously as annoyed at being left behind as Connor was.  "I don't know why they bother bringing us along," she complained.  "If I find he's got a sweepstake running on how often you and I get airsick, he's going to regret it!"

That wouldn't surprise Connor, knowing Danny. 

"Those _are_ the dino-poster boys," she repeated.  "I'd like to take a proper look, we might never see them again.  Coming?"

Connor, if he was honest, would've loved to take a closer look at them.  They'd always been his favourite dinosaur when he was growing up.  Well, them and the T.rex.  He'd gone off the T.rex since the day a G.rex nearly had him for dinner.  The triceratops remained an unblemished favourite though.  However, Becker was down there with them. 

Sarah was striding off after Danny, not waiting for Connor to finish dithering.  Being left alone was probably worse than anything else so he reluctantly trailed after her.

The cornfield was a mess.  The farmer, who seemed less startled by the triceratops than he was by the destruction of his crops, was arguing with Saunders and Peters, safely on the other side of the gate.  Becker, Abby and Danny were with the rest of the soldiers, trying to herd the dinosaurs back through the anomaly.  Becker and Danny, he could see, weren't agreeing on the best way to go about that.  The triceratops were very happy with the crops.  They had no interest in going back through to a world full of predators and probably less delicious pickings.

"I thought you were supposed to be staying with the choppers." 

Connor hadn't heard Ditzy approach, and jumped, startled, making the medic grin.   "I was bored."

"Have you had a chance to talk to Captain Becker yet?"

"No..." Connor eyed Ditzy warily.  "Or yes, just a bit."

"And?"

"I don't really want to hear him tell...bloody hell!"

Something large and hungry had come storming through the anomaly.  Connor could feel the ground shaking slightly as it thundered towards the nearest triceratops and tried to bite down on the creature.   The triceratops in turn lowered its head, directing the largest of the three horns towards the T.rex. 

"Stay there!" Ditzy yelled, then he was gone, already running over to join the rest of the soldiers.  Connor glanced back at the helicopters, wondering if he should go back and use them as a shelter.  One look at the vast jaws of the T.rex told him the futility of that idea.  It was snapping at the unfortunate triceratops now, managing to get around the vicious horn and getting in a nasty bite on the creature, which started to back away.  The rest of the herd were running in all directions.  Some went back through the anomaly but it was more by accident than design.  There were still two that were lumbering around the farm.

Turrell had stopped complaining about his crops, his face white and shocked.  He stood at the gate, staring in disbelief at the T.rex.  He'd apparently barely noticed the triceratops that was heading for him until Corporal Peters pulled him out of the way.  The creature barrelled through the gate, leaving it in splinters, and started on a determined march down the lane, as far from the predator as possible.

Peters was obviously torn between following it and dealing with the deadly monster that had just burst through the anomaly.  The monster won, he yelled at the farmer to get back in his house, then ran over to join the others.

The triceratops was moving quite fast for such a large creature, but given the incentive that was hardly surprising.  One of its companions was dead, and the soldiers with their guns wouldn't have been particularly attractive either, even though they hadn't been shooting at the herbivores.   They were certainly shooting now, but finding it hard to make any impact on the massive carnivore with their tranquilisers.  The escaping triceratops was temporarily forgotten.

Connor brought up a map of the island on his phone app.  He didn't have the best connection out there, but it was apparent fairly quickly that although they were on the western side of the island and closer to nature reserves than the major town, if that dinosaur continued on its current route it would find itself in one of the small villages eventually.

The others were, understandably, busy with the T.rex.  Becker wasn't having much luck taking it down, and it was snarling at him but evidently had decided it didn't like being shot at as it was keeping a distance.  The wounded triceratops had taken advantage of the distraction and headed off in the direction of another field, away from the predator.  The T.rex noticed and thundered after it, leaving its assailants behind.

Most of the team, including Becker, went straight after it.  A few men ran towards one of the large garages, presumably intent on commandeering a few vehicles that would be a little more difficult to chew on than they were themselves.  Connor found that he and Sarah were virtually alone. 

"We should go after the one that ran off," Connor suggested.  "If anyone sees it..."

"And how're we supposed to get it back here?" Sarah asked.  "Tell it there's a T.rex that wants to take it to dinner?  That thing was huge!" 

She had a point.  The triceratops was a lot larger than either of them.  Connor looked around, then ran over, pulled his pocket knife out and cut an armful of the corn that the triceratops had been enjoying so happily before the predator had spoiled their meal.

Sarah looked dubious, but took a bundle of the crop.  "I suppose we can always make corn dollies if this doesn't work," she muttered.  "And the further I am from that thing the better." She nodded towards the T.rex.  It was a relatively safe distance from them, but the soldiers were dangerously close.  Becker, in particular, was far too close for Connor's liking.  He looked away, glad of the excuse not to stand around and watch.  If anything happened to Becker... no, it wasn't his concern any more. 

But it felt like his concern.  He couldn't help looking again, seeing the creature lunge at Saunders and only Becker's hasty firing saved the man.  A gasp from behind him told Connor that Abby had run over to join them and seen her boyfriend almost end up a dinosaur's dinner.  At least Abby wasn't trying to protect the thing this time.  She didn't even protest the fact Becker had given up on the tranquilisers and was using his shotgun instead.

"Becker wants us to get in the farmhouse," she told them. 

"Sounds like a better idea than Connor's," Sarah agreed.

"The other triceratops ran off," Connor explained.  "I wanted us to round it up before someone sees it."

There was a scream from the group of men surrounding the T.rex.  Someone had been hurt.  The gunfire increased in volume.  Connor forced himself to look away, concentrate on following the dinosaur.   Abby was looking though, she had her own concerns in the shape of Josh Saunders, but the brief look of relief on her face told Connor all he needed to know. 

"It was Turner, he tripped and it nearly got him," Abby told him.  "He's okay."  She looked at the bundles of corn they were carrying, and shook her head.  "That's not enough.   It'll find another field and this won't tempt it.  We need fruit.  That apple tree..."

Connor followed her towards the farmhouse, which had a couple of apple trees in its garden.  There were plenty of fallers, and a few freshly picked ones from the tree gave them a sizeable haul.

Out in the field behind them, one of the soldiers had got behind the wheel of a combine harvester and was driving it out across the damaged crops.  The dinosaur gave another deep-throated roar, but tore into the second triceratops that had been putting up a good fight until that point, standing its ground and using the three massive horns to good effect.  There was at least one gash across the side of the T.rex.  Connor saw Abby wince at the screams of the dying animal, cut short by several bursts of gunfire.  She'd trained Lieutenant Saunders well, Connor thought, he'd probably be the one who had put the creature out of its misery.  He still didn't look.  He couldn't watch Becker in that much danger. 

Sarah was still watching the T.rex apprehensively.  "Why haven't they tranquilised it?"

"They're trying.  They can't get close enough, the darts aren't getting through its skin, or the tranquiliser isn't strong enough, or both.  They're going to try a stronger dose, then drag it back through with the tractor."

Danny, Connor noticed, had got hold of a large tranquiliser gun.   One of the men had run back to the helicopter and returned with a couple of them and a fresh pack of darts.  They obviously hadn't expected the gentle triceratops to give them that much trouble.  The T.rex was another matter.  Danny had immediately commandeered one of the rifles and was ducking round behind the gigantic beast, taking aim and just missing.  It just missed Becker as well, and Connor could hear exactly what Becker thought of that.

From some of the things Becker was shouting at Danny, it sounded as if he was remembering a lot more now.  And Danny, for his part, just seemed to think it was funny.  But then Danny seemed to be able to find humour in most things, particularly if it involved annoying Becker.  Ridiculously, now Connor found himself almost jealous of Danny.  His relationship with Becker hadn't changed at all.

"We should go after the triceratops," Connor decided.  "Before someone sees it."

Sarah glanced at the T.rex again and that seemed to make up her mind.  She headed after the triceratops without a word, whilst Abby looked back worriedly at the soldiers.

"Josh'll be okay," Connor promised.  He wanted to get Abby away from that thing, and knew Saunders wouldn't want her anywhere near it either.  "It's slowing down a bit, the tranquilisers are working."

She looked doubtful.  The beast swung its head angrily, snapping at Becker and Saunders, who were doing a good job of keeping out of its range.  The huge cornfield was rapidly getting totally trampled down to nothing with the combined efforts of the special forces soldiers and the gigantic prehistoric beasts.

Abby, Connor noted, had still got her tranquiliser gun.  They might need that if the triceratops couldn't be turned around.  He glanced back at the soldiers again.  They were starting to drive the T.rex back now, finally winning.  He saw Becker glance across at him, just for a moment, then away, intent on the T.rex.  Regardless of what it was Becker wanted from him, Connor found it hard to watch the battle still going on.  Just one wrong move and any of them could be gone.  Becker could be gone.  He was far too close.

"Stay safe," he whispered, and turned away.  Abby was looking at him, and he wondered if she'd heard.  From the slightly pitying look on her face, he guessed that she had. 

"Let's go," was all she said.   They headed off together, neither wanting to look back.

***

Becker, if he was honest, rather liked battling the larger creatures.  There was something undignified about trying to herd the smaller ones back through anomalies, chasing them and sometimes even falling over the wretched things.  And then, if they were particularly cute, there was the problem that Connor always wanted to keep them as pets.

He wondered if he'd ever have that problem again.  Right then he would've taken in half the menagerie if it meant Connor was going to forgive him.  Not the T.rex though.  That was heading back into the past and could stay there.  It was retreating now, not liking the shotgun or the way the tranquilisers were slowly making their way through its system.  It particularly didn't like the combine harvester Peters had commandeered that was almost as tall as the T.rex and certainly a lot wider.  That, more than anything, was making it back off.  The tractor and Range Rover that were rapidly heading towards them helped as well. 

He didn't entirely trust Corporal Peters with those blades...

"Everyone get in one of the vehicles!" he yelled, heading for the Range Rover as it was closest.

It had been a relief, watching Connor go.  The further he was from that thing the better, and probably from the farm vehicles too.  He wouldn't put it past Connor to somehow find himself in the path of that combine harvester.  The triceratops was probably safe enough for Connor to deal with, there was only one and Abby had a gun.  He tried not to worry about it.  His job was to get the T.rex back through the anomaly.  Doubtless the entirety of the remaining triceratops herd 68 million years in the past would thank them for that.

Danny had got in the tractor, and somehow had already managed to take the wheel.  That didn't surprise Becker, who could now recall a vast number of incidents where to his way of thinking Danny had done his very best to take over and show off.  In this case Owen obviously didn't mind because he was loading up the tranquiliser gun again and getting ready to launch another attack on the beast.  Danny seemed to think his methods were helping and leading the way.  The most annoying thing of all was that most of the time Danny's methods got good results.  Becker gritted his teeth as he climbed into the Range Rover and saw the tractor heading past them, Danny and Owen both grinning from ear to ear and heading straight for the T.rex.   

Turner had the wheel of the Range Rover, after his near miss with the T.rex he'd evidently decided that he felt safer with a layer of metal between him and the creature.  Saunders had climbed into the back and was busy opening up the sunroof so that they could stand up and shoot through it. 

"This'll look a lot cooler than that tractor!" Saunders told him.

"We're not paid to look cool," Becker reminded him, then added:  "Still, won't hurt!  And it'll piss off Quinn!"  He clambered over into the back seat then stood up next to Saunders, both of them squeezing through the sunroof and leaning out through the top.  "Pity we didn't bring sunglasses!"

Saunders looked at him appraisingly for a moment, then grinned.  "It's true then.  Good to see you back!"

Evidently word was getting around.  That wasn't entirely a good thing, he wanted to tell Connor himself.

 

But first they had a T.rex to herd...

***

The triceratops had managed to cover quite a distance considering it wasn't the most streamlined of creatures.  Connor was already regretting not taking one of the trucks from the farm.  He wasn't the only one.

"I thought these things were supposed to be slow and lumbering?" Sarah complained.  "This is turning into a hike!"

"It's scared.  It'll slow down soon, when it realises the predator isn't after it any more."  Abby was striding along in front, leading the way. 

She was right, of course.  Abby was usually right when it came to the creatures.  They found it in a field with a small herd of sheep.  Most of the sheep had run away to the furthermost hedge, but a few either braver or more stupid than the rest were still grazing around the triceratops.

They picked their way carefully over the broken gate.  Some of it was still hanging off its hinges where the triceratops had barrelled through, but most of it was in pieces in the grass.

"Hope this is all Mr Turrell's farm," Sarah commented.  "One set of paperwork is going to be a lot easier to deal with."

"You think?  You should've heard the things he was saying to Josh!  He's not the most reasonable of men," Abby told her.  She edged closer to the triceratops, taking one of the apples out of her backpack and very carefully rolling it towards him.  The creature ignored it and carried on tearing at the small sapling it had found.  "Damn."

Sarah eyed the bruised fruit.  "I wouldn't want to eat that either," she noted.  She held out a few stalks of corn, then jumped back a little when the triceratops took a few steps towards her, evidently remembering the feast it had just enjoyed.  "Here," she pushed the corn at Abby.  "You're better with these things than I am.  You do it."

Abby was only too happy to do so, soon having the triceratops taking a step forward to munch on the stalks she had dropped in front of it.  And when it finally found the apple it started looking around in the grass for more.

Connor immediately joined in, unable to resist despite the lethal-looking horns.  A real triceratops, and he was getting to feed it!  He rolled another apple towards it.  The day wasn't completely awful after all.  He couldn't help grinning at Abby.  "This is _so_ cool!"

"Let's hope he's hungry, it's a long way back to the farm," Abby warned him.  "You feed him then, Sarah and I can try to stop him bolting if something scares him."

Sarah gave her an incredulous look, but took her place on the other side of the creature anyway.  She stood considerably further back than Abby.

Connor hesitated.  "Abby?  Just one thing?"

The girl looked back at him quizzically.  "We need to start herding him back to the farm, Connor."

"Yeah, this won't take a moment, it's just..." he looked across at the triceratops, still enjoying the apple, then held out his phone.  "Just one shot.  They were always my favourite."

"You want a photo with the dinosaur?" Abby checked slowly.  "Seriously?"

"It's my favourite one!"

She rolled her eyes, but took the phone and did it.  Connor beamed at the camera and tried not to wonder just how much he might be able to get away with over the next few weeks whilst Abby was worrying about him.  It didn't really make up for how horrible everything was, but it was something.

"Okay?" Abby asked, handing back the phone. 

Connor nodded.  "Thanks."

It wasn't a yes, but lying wasn't really his thing.  He wasn't Becker, after all.  Trying not to think about that, he carefully rolled another apple through the grass, and watched the creature move up to eat it. 

Triceratops really were the best dinosaur.

***

In the end, the T.rex had gone back through the anomaly without too much trouble.  The three vehicles, along with the guns, had persuaded it that the 21st century wasn't so great and eventually it had gone back home.  It was a relief, as dragging it back if they'd managed to tranquilise it fully would have been difficult.

Unfortunately, the farmer whose field had been destroyed didn't appear to appreciate that.  Becker wondered whether, if his finger slipped and he pulled the trigger on the tranquiliser gun, he could get away with it.  He was fairly sure the rest of the team would back him up and say it was an accident.

Since they'd lost Jenny it tended to fall to Danny to take charge of calming down members of the public.  Much like anything involving Danny, sometimes it worked amazingly well, sometimes it didn't.  This was one of the times that it didn't.

Mr Turrell was an angry man.  He'd been angry when he’d seen the small herd of dinosaurs enjoying a feast in his cornfield.   He'd been even angrier when the group of government specialists and special forces soldiers trampled over the crops even more.  And when a gigantic monster came crashing through that odd sparkling ball of light and totally destroyed anything that was left he was very, very angry.  Scared too, and glad to hide in the safety of his house, but still making it known he was very angry.  Once the T.rex had been driven back through the anomaly and it had been safely sealed, Turrell apparently thought it was time he left them in no doubt about just how angry he was.

He was roaring at Danny in what Becker thought was a passable imitation of the T.rex.

"...half my crop gone, most of the profits for the year not to mention the wear and tear on my vehicles..."

It didn't look like half the crop.  There was still a good quarter of that field totally untouched, and several fields beyond that weren't harmed at all. And aside from a dent in the front of the tractor where Danny had driven it a little too enthusiastically at the retreating beast, the vehicles were all fine. 

"Pity he wasn't that brave earlier," Saunders muttered.  "He could've driven off the T.rex for us!"

"We could've just fed him to it," Peters whispered back.  "Would've saved a whole lot of trouble."

They had a point.  "Maybe you're missing the fact that if my men hadn't turned up and saved you, that monster would've had you and your family as a tasty little afternoon snack!" Becker snapped at the farmer.

Turrell paused for a moment to glare at him, then continued. "I should sue the lot of you for damage to property and loss of income.  And when those helicopters came in, who said you could land there?  I usually have cattle in that field, they could have been there today and..."

"Were they?" Becker interrupted.  "We didn't see any. If we had the pilots would have chosen somewhere safer."

"Well, not today, but..."

"So no problem then," Danny surmised.  "If you'd just like to make a list, our boss back in London loves bits of paper, he'll know exactly what to do with it."

Peters smirked at that, and unfortunately Turrell noticed.

"Oh yes, I'm sure it's a big joke to you.  Some of us have to work for a living to pay your wages, young man!"  He turned back to face Danny.  "You want a list?  Right, start making notes.  Obviously my crop, I'll want the full value of that.  That tractor, new last year, now look at it..." Turrell started to walk towards the tractor.

Becker looked at it.  It didn't look as if it was new that decade.  He glanced back at Danny, raising an eyebrow dubiously.  Danny just rolled his eyes and went after the farmer, who had moved on from the tractor and was heading back towards the anomaly site.

"Sorry sir," Peters apologised.  "I just imagined Lester's face if he met that idiot."

"He'd just have found fault with something else," Becker reassured him, cringing inwardly at the surprise on Peters' face when he did so.  He had a lot of ground to make up with his men.  "We should bring Lester along to deal with these people, he'd soon shut them up."

"Can't we reopen the anomaly and feed him to the T.rex after all?" Saunders asked.  "Ungrateful little worm."

"Tempting as it is, no.  Come on, we'd better back Danny up.  He's crap at this."

They headed over to the soldiers still watching over the anomaly.  It was safely locked, with two men standing guard just in case.  Danny was still having to listen to Turrell.  Very soon, Becker thought, Danny would probably wind up dealing with the man in his own special way, and then they'd have even more paperwork to take back to Lester.

"We need to go and help the others get that last triceratops back before the anomaly closes," he reminded Danny when they reached him.  The team leader nodded.

"One of those things is still here?" Turrell demanded.  "Damn it, you're supposed to have got rid of them!  What's the point of all this..."

Becker cut him off before the farmer could continue the rant.  "Unless you want it here permanently, I suggest you let us borrow some of your vehicles and we'll get it back.  Turner, was there anything we can use to lift it if Abby's managed to tranquilise it?"

"You people come out here thinking you can just help yourselves to my property, standing around cluttering up my fields with all this junk!"  Turrell kicked out angrily at the anomaly closing device before they could stop him.  It tipped over and crashed to the ground with a loud crack.

The anomaly pulsed back into life, hanging in mid-air, sparkling in the late morning sunshine. 

Saunders and Becker immediately knelt down and picked up the device, getting it upright and trying to reactivate it.

"The casing's cracked," Becker pointed out.  He knew how to operate the peculiar-looking thing, the memory had returned at some point without him noticing.  It wasn't the most exciting thing to remember. 

"I think it's okay, it's just cosmetic," Saunders reassured him.  "We need to reset it."  He looked up at the anomaly.  There was an ominous roar from the other side.  "Oh no..."

The T.rex had evidently not had enough of the 21st century after all.  It stormed through and was suddenly out in the field again, looking around.  It apparently smelled the triceratops and immediately ran after it, surprisingly fast considering its size. 

"Abby!" Saunders was up on his feet, gun in hand.  "It's going after the triceratops.  They're with it!  God, those three don't stand a chance."

"Lock the anomaly and guard it!" Becker yelled at Turner.  "If anything even looks like coming through just start shooting!"  He pointed at Turrell: "And keep that idiot away from it!"

"Just so you know, mate, we'll be suing _you_ if any of our friends get chomped on!" Danny snarled at the farmer.  Becker was already heading for the Range Rover, Saunders one step ahead of him.

"If anything happens to Abby because of that idiot..." Saunders snarled, scrambling into the driver's seat.  The keys were still in the ignition from their earlier use of the vehicle. 

"Abby's tough," Danny reminded him, climbing in behind then shifting over for Ditzy.  "She'll be okay.  They all will."

Becker got in the passenger seat and had barely closed the door before Saunders was off, screeching the vehicle around in a U-turn then racing after the predator. 

"I'll ring Connor, warn him."

"Maybe I should do it?" Owen suggested. 

Becker ignored him, dialling the number.  There was no answer.  It rang on and on, then went to voicemail.

"Connor for God's sake pick up!  That T.rex is heading straight for you!  Get away from that dinosaur, the T.rex is going after it!"

Becker could feel his heart beating like a trip hammer.  He wanted to grab the wheel and force Saunders to drive faster.

Why the hell wouldn't Connor answer his phone?  Connor always answered that phone.  Sometimes Becker wanted to take it off him and throw it in a lake because he was on it so much.  He could remember telling him so, many times.  And so much else besides.

Behind him, Danny was trying to call Abby.

"Drive faster!" Becker snarled at Saunders. 

"Don't you think I would if this bloody heap of junk would actually _go_ any faster?"

Becker could hear that thing up ahead, roaring.  That wasn't good.  Beside him, he could see Saunders desperately trying to push the aging Range Rover a bit faster.  Becker gripped his gun, ready, waiting.  He prayed they'd be in time.

***

It had been quiet for a while back at the farm.  The roaring of the T.rex had stopped, and now they couldn't hear it at all.

"Sounds like they've sent it back.  Or drugged it.  Or both."  Connor couldn't work up too much enthusiasm.  He knew it meant the job was nearly over and whatever Becker wanted to say to him was going to come out sooner rather than later.  Well, this time he'd get a fight, Connor had decided.  He wasn't going to roll over and let himself be kicked out of his job.  If anything, he was the one with more right to be there, he'd been there longer and anyway he was the one who'd invented the locking device and the detection device.  He was the least dispensable.  Becker could go.

God, he'd hate it if Becker left and he never saw him again.

The triceratops was still happily eating whatever it could find.  It was loving the apples, and didn't take any notice of Connor leaning as close to those potentially lethal horns as he dared, beaming for his picture.

The three of them had carefully moved closer, Connor happily leading the way and holding out some apples.  He rolled one towards the creature, waiting until it found the fruit, hoovered it up then looked around for more.

"He's got a taste for them!" Abby exclaimed.  "Okay, let's see if we can coax him home."  She held out another apple, then almost dropped it when Connor's mobile went off loudly, startling the creature though not quite enough to make it run from the food. "Connor!"

"Sorry."  He pulled it out and looked at it.  "It's Becker." He flicked it onto silent, and pocketed it again.  "He can wait."

Abby nodded approvingly, and held out the apple again.  "They're probably wondering where we've got to."

"He's probably hoping the T.rex ate me," Connor muttered.

Sarah frowned at him.  "I don't think so.  He wasn't too happy when you swapped places with me on the helicopter.  Thanks for that, by the way."

"Rather you than me.  He'd probably have shoved me out over the English Channel.  He gave me the ‘we need to talk’ line.  You know what that means."

"Yes, it means he's got his memory back.  I'm supposed to let him tell you himself, but I think you should know.  I had to sit there listening to him going on and on about it to Ditzy.  As if helicopter flights aren't bad enough anyway.  And I think I prefer Becker when he's trying to be silent and aloof.  Talkative, repentant Becker is a bit depressing!"

Connor gaped at her.  He was vaguely aware that Abby's phone was going off now, and that she was answering it.  The triceratops didn't seem very happy about that either.  They weren't doing a very good job of enticing it back to the anomaly so far.  Connor didn't really care.  "He remembers?  I mean, me?  He's got it all back?  And he’s... repentant... that's sorry, right?  He's sorry?  But he might be just sorry he ever met me or..."

"Connor, he's sorry he's been a little shit to you.  That's what he wants to tell you, as far as I could work out between the self-flagellation from Becker and the I-told-you-so's from Ditzy.  Nothing bad.  Personally, I'd make him sweat after the way he's behaved."

Connor could feel a delighted grin spreading across his face.  Recriminations were the last thing on his mind.  It was as if a huge weight had been lifted from him.  He grabbed Sarah in a hug, picked her up and spun her round, whooping loudly before putting her down and turning to Abby, intending giving her the same treatment.

Abby was staring past him in horror, her phone still in her hand.  Too late Connor registered the loud roar, turned and saw the T.rex bearing down on them, huge slavering jaws wide open. 

The triceratops was already running. 

***

The first thing they saw as Saunders screeched to a halt in the entrance to the field where the T.rex had stopped was Abby, determinedly aiming the tranquiliser gun at the gigantic beast, with Sarah sensibly some way behind her and backing still further. 

Danny and the soldiers were still scrambling out of the Range Rover when Abby fired and missed, and Becker heard Saunders' horrified gasp as the T.rex lunged at her, failing only because she threw herself backwards just in time.  But she dropped the gun in the process and as she tried to retrieve it the creature lunged at her again.  The only thing that saved her was the fact that something, a small rock perhaps, bounced off the side of the T.rex's head, missing its eye by only the smallest fraction.  It roared furiously, and turned to its assailant.

"Get away from her!" 

It was Connor, and to Becker's horror he was throwing things at the T.rex, trying to distract it from the fallen girl, trying to draw it away.  He was succeeding all too well.  Saunders and Quinn were already out of the Range Rover and shooting at the gigantic creature.  They couldn't miss at that distance, but just as before the bullets weren't doing a great job of getting through the thick skin.   Owen had the larger tranquiliser gun out, but was struggling to get in place for an effective shot.  He needed to get reasonably close, and getting close to that thing wasn't an option.

The T.rex went for Connor this time, there was a yell, and then Becker couldn't see what was happening.  He couldn't see Connor at all, and then suddenly the T.rex's head was back up, something bloodied in its mouth that it was chewing on. 

It was hard to see because his vision seemed to have swum out of focus for a moment, but there was blood, and flesh, and bone.  He could definitely see bone. 

Becker felt as if he was going to throw up.  He couldn't think any more, not able to take in the horror of what he was seeing.  If there was any chance at all that Connor hadn't been killed outright, Becker had to get the beast away from him.  He leapt back into the Range Rover, which Saunders had left running, and drove it straight at the T.rex.  Quinn barely leapt out of the way in time, but Becker didn't even see him.  He slammed the vehicle into the creature's leg, reversed and drove into it again.  It gave a furious roar, abandoned all interest in anything else, and went straight for the Range Rover.  Only a very quick reverse saved Becker from being crushed, he managed to spin the vehicle round at the end of the movement and was racing back towards the farm, the T.rex following, raging and roaring furiously.

Becker slammed his hand down on the horn in case any of the others had followed.  He passed one soldier, who dived into the hedgerow.  The T.rex paid him no heed, still intent on the vehicle, seeing it as an adversary. 

"Open the anomaly!" Becker yelled down his radio to whoever was listening.  Someone must have stayed with the anomaly, it was the rule.  He didn't know if anyone had heard, all he could hear was the thundering of the enormous creature behind him and the endless furious roaring.  "And then get away from it!  I'm bringing the T.rex through!"

He kept going, concentrating on moving fast enough to keep ahead of the thing but slow enough that it didn't lose interest in him.  If Connor wasn't mortally injured and Owen and Saunders could save him... Becker tried not to think about it.  And he could see Owen's medical kit lying on the floor of the passenger seat beside him.

The farmhouse passed in a blur, then he was heading up the lane into the field.  Somebody had heard him, the anomaly was open.  He caught a glimpse of Turner's horrified face from the relative safety of the tractor as they passed, or he thought it was Turner.  He didn't care, just had to get that monster back to its own time and away from Connor.

"Someone get a medical kit out to Owen!  Hurry!" he yelled, hoping Turner would have the sense to obey.  "And lock this thing behind me!"

There were other things he wanted to say, but there wasn't time and he didn't even know if Connor was still conscious or even alive to hear them.  Truthfully, he knew from all that blood there was no chance.  It was better not to know, to still have hope.

He drove, against all his instincts, straight through the anomaly.  The T.rex thundered after him, and then Becker put his foot down, intent now on losing the creature before the petrol ran out.  The meter, he noticed, was getting low.

It was like playing cat and mouse.  Without the road, the vehicle was slower, harder to manage.  But the terrain didn't slow the T.rex down at all.  The bloody thing was going to follow him to the bitter end.  There was probably only one chance to get away from it, and if that didn't work then he supposed these things probably ate you quickly.  But just in case, he had his SIG Sauer.  Not that he expected to get a chance to use it.

Owen's medkit was pretty heavy.  Becker had needed to grab it a few times and often wondered if half the ARCs medical centre wasn't in there.  He leaned over and pulled it up onto his lap, then managed to lay it over the accelerator pedal.  It wouldn't work for long without someone steering but it might do.  He was driving over the top of a hill, and could see the gradual slope down in front of him.  It might work.  He opened the door, braced himself and then threw himself clear of the vehicle as it started down into the next valley.

The ground bloody hurt, but he curled protectively as he landed and rolled away, tensing for the jaws that never came.  The T.rex was still storming after its larger quarry.

The anomaly was glowing far away in the distance.  They'd yet to obey his order to close it but that probably wasn't going to matter.  He saw, with a sinking feeling, that it was starting to flicker. 

He was glad he'd kept up the morning runs.  But it was too far. He'd been going fast and he'd driven as far from the anomaly as he could, wanting to draw the T.rex away from it.  It had to be a mile away now, possibly more, down the valley and then up the hill on the other side.  The ground was uneven, and even with the fairly sparse vegetation there were too many trip hazards to go at the pace he needed.

Worse, behind him he was aware that the noise of Range Rover's engine had changed, presumably the kit had been jolted off the pedal.  The roars of the T.rex grew louder, accompanied by a crashing sound that he guessed was the vehicle being torn to pieces.  Any moment now the beast would realise that it wasn't edible and there was the risk it would come after him.  He kept running, not daring to look back.  That thing was faster than he could ever run.  If it went after him he wouldn't know much about it.

The anomaly flickered again.  That was such a bad sign.  Becker didn't study the things like Connor did, but he'd noticed enough to be aware that he was in big trouble.  There was a part of him that didn't care, that knew going back to a life without Connor, especially given the way he'd behaved over the past month or so, wasn't going to be much of a life at all.  But then there was a part of him that still clung onto the hope that somehow Connor had survived the attack, that he'd live and Becker could just spend every day of the rest of their lives trying to make things up to him. 

He ran on, lungs bursting.

 

They hadn't sealed the anomaly.  Maybe they were going to push that stupid triceratops through it or something.  Probably they'd left it for him, though.  After the way he'd been carrying on he wondered why they didn't just lock it and walk away.  It was what he felt he deserved.

It was too hot and his body armour was too heavy, and the anomaly was just too far away.  As he reached the bottom of the valley he could still just see it, but after that it was out of sight, too far over the ridge, settled on the higher plains beyond.  He just had to keep running, and hope it was still there when he reached the summit.

And then, just as he thought he couldn't go any further because it was just too steep and too hot and too far, and he'd gone too fast, there was the familiar rumble of an engine.

Danny, of course.  He'd commandeered that bloody tractor, probably overridden Becker's order to lock the anomaly, and now he was heading towards him in a thing which probably couldn't do more than thirty at the very most.

It didn't matter.  Becker had never been so pleased to see him.  Danny waved, and turned in a worryingly slow loop.  By the time he was facing uphill Becker was at the side of the vehicle, scrambling up into the other seat.

"What kept you?" Danny asked, grinning at him.  "Thought I was going to have to drive all the way down there!  Hold tight, this thing isn't the smoothest ride!"

He wasn't joking.  Becker clung on grimly as they climbed back up the slope.  Danny seemed to be finding every single rock and dip and the vehicle veered alarmingly to one side over one particularly deep hole.  He glanced back over his shoulder.  There was no sign of the T.rex yet, but then he couldn't see the anomaly any more either so that meant nothing.

The tractor's engine was struggling a bit on the climb and Danny crunched down through the gears, taking the noisy low gear option and the power it offered.

"You should have left me."

"Yeah, nice to see you too.  We'll make it.   Those things always like to flicker around a bit for ages before they shut."

Becker wouldn't have called it ages.  Ten minutes was about the longest he could recall and it was usually a lot less. 

He really, really wanted to ask about Connor.  There was a large bloodstain on Danny's sleeve that he hadn't noticed earlier.  He didn't want to think where that might have come from.  But until they were out of there he couldn't cope with the distraction that the inevitable bad news would be for him.  He had to concentrate, Danny had risked his own life coming back for him like this, he had to concentrate on that, do everything he could to make sure Danny got back.

"There it is!" Danny's grin broadened, and he punched Becker on the shoulder.  Already bruised from the fall from the Range Rover, that hurt quite a bit but the relief on seeing the anomaly still open eased it somewhat.  "Goodbye, Cretaceous!"

"Thank God!"

"Didn't want to be stuck out here with me, huh?  I'm not as pretty as Connor?"

Becker stared at him.  He wouldn't say something like that if Connor was dead or even badly hurt, surely?  Not even Danny.  A glimmer of hope started to grow.  But they were up at the anomaly now, heading straight for it and it was flickering, unstable.  Becker resisted the urge to close his eyes, pushing down the fear that it would shut on them and they'd end up sliced in half.  It was always a risk.  He hated the anomalies.

"No, you're bloody not!"

And then suddenly there was bright sunlight on his face and a gentle breeze coming in off the sea.  Peters and Turner were running towards them, Sarah at their heels, relief evident on all their faces.  Danny crunched the tractor to a halt and jumped out, quick to accept Sarah's hug and claps on the back from the two soldiers.

He could see a truck coming into the field, something large in the trailer covered by a tarpaulin.  Saunders was driving, Abby at his side.  They both looked grim and were heading towards the anomaly.  It flickered and closed long before they got there.  Behind them were Owen and Sarah, driving some sort of pick-up truck.  Every vehicle on the farm really did look as though it had seen better days.  The Range Rover was far and away the best, and that wouldn't be coming back.  There was no sign of Connor.  He tried not to stare at the tarpaulin in the back of the truck.  Too big.  It had to be the tranquilised triceratops.  It wasn't Connor.  It couldn't be Connor.

Becker jumped down from the tractor.  Turner and Peters were both grinning at him, giving him the thumbs up.  Like Saunders, they appeared to be fairly willing to forgive his weeks of bad temper.  They weren't coming over to welcome him back properly though, he noticed.  He didn't blame them.  But there was no putting it off any longer, he had to know:

"Where's Connor?"

"Um...Here."

The familiar voice was a little hesitant, but right there behind him.  Becker's relief was tangible, he turned and grabbed him without even thinking about it, pulling him into a hug so hard that Connor gave a little yelp of surprise.

"Thank God!  I thought that thing had got you... I thought I'd lost you... It was eating something... I thought I lost you..."

"It was a sheep," Connor told him.  "Poor thing was in the wrong place, luckily for me."

"I thought I'd lost you."

"Yeah, I got that.  And I _did_ lose you," Connor reminded him.

"Sorry... sorry... God, I thought you were dead... I thought... I'm _so_ sorry, Conn."

"Yes, and you should be!" Abby had run over to them.  "Have you any idea how much you hurt him?  And now you think you'll just get him back now that it suits you?"

"Abby, it's okay," Connor told her, turning to look at her.  He didn't pull away from Becker entirely though, staying in a loose embrace.  "I can handle it."

Abby looked as if she had a lot more to say, and Becker was steeling himself to hear it, knowing it wouldn't be anything less than the truth.  It was Owen that saved him, having followed Abby over to them.

"Reunions and recriminations need to wait until later," he announced.  "Becker, I need to take a look at that shoulder."

He'd forgotten all about the fall from the Range Rover with the need to get back through the anomaly and then the reunion with Connor.  But now that he thought about it, his shoulder was quite painful.  He saw Connor looking worriedly at it, taking in the blood and the torn t-shirt.

"It's fine, just bruised I expect," he assured Connor.     

"Come on," Owen nodded towards the helicopters.  "Turrell's not going to let us near his house, so the choppers will have to do.  Unless you want to strip in the middle of the field?"

Becker grimaced, and started to walk towards the aircraft.  Connor, he was relieved to notice, went with him and needed just the gentlest tug on his arm to make him do so.

The helicopter wasn't overly private, open to the elements and even with the pilots rapidly making themselves scarce on Owen's request, Becker still felt a little exposed.  The medic's cold hands were for once welcome, relieving a little of the burning of Becker's scraped and bruised skin.

"You're going to be stiff and sore for a few days, but there's no serious damage," Owen told him when he'd finished the examination.  "Connor, can you help?"

The young scientist jumped up from the seat where he'd been watching, and took the tube of ointment the medic handed him. 

"Put this on the damaged skin, it'll soothe it a little bit.  There's not a lot else I can do.  You two need to talk.  I'll keep the pilots away for a while."  He looked at Becker: "Sort it out."

Left alone with Connor, Becker suddenly felt a little uncomfortable.  One glance at Connor told him that he wasn't alone in that sentiment.  He forced a smile, nodding at the tube in Connor's hands.  "If you don't want to do that, I can ask someone else."

"What?  No, no, it's fine, I was just thinking... It might hurt a bit.  That looks sore."

"It is.  So if you wouldn't mind..."

Connor swallowed, then uncapped the cream and squeezed out a generous amount.  Becker hissed as it touched the raw skin.

"Sorry!"

"It's okay, it'll hurt no matter who does it."

Connor nodded, and started gently rubbing in the cream.  Within a few moments it started to feel a little better.  As always there were a couple of spare t-shirts buried in the kit.  Gingerly he pulled the loosest one over his head and with Connor's help managed to get it on.  He thanked Connor, pocketed the tube of ointment, and sat back on one of the chairs.  After a moment's hesitation Connor sat next to him and accepted the embrace Becker offered, carefully avoiding the shoulder.

"Can you remember everything?" Connor asked, the edge of what might have been hope in his voice. 

Becker wanted it to be hope.  That was a lot better than anger. 

He shook his head.  "It's still in bits.  But a lot of it.  Enough."

                             

"Enough?"

"Enough that I remembered how much I love you.  And that I'm really, really sorry."  He felt Connor pulling away slightly, and his heart sank.  It wasn't ever going to be that easy.  The things he'd said...  He found himself looking down into the same dark eyes he'd caught staring back at him so many months before, and there was the same questioning, wondering look in them.  But this time he couldn't just make a move.  It wasn't up to him any more.  Connor, though, always needed a bit of a push. "You probably don't want anything to do with me."

"I don't know.  I don't understand why you pushed me away.  You knew we were together, even if you couldn't remember it.  Why couldn't you just wait and see?  Why be so horrible?  Why lie about the gym bloke?  What was that all about?"

Becker shook his head.  "I'm sorry.  I was trying to... I don't know what I was trying to do.  I didn't think we were really together... I don't do long relationships, you know I don't.  You know I've never stayed with anyone this long and I saw the state of the flat and everything and I just didn't think my life could have changed so much.  I couldn't see anything of me left in my own home, and I really, really needed to see something familiar when I walked through that door because God knows nothing else was making any sense to me."

"You mean us."

"No.  Well, yes, obviously, but not just that.  There were all these people I barely knew, or didn't know at all, all of them seemed to know me better than I knew myself.  And this huge great gap in my memory.  That's just..." He trailed off, not sure what to say. 

"Scary?" Connor finished for him.  "Not that you'd ever admit it?"

"Scary.  Yes.  Is that enough to persuade you to come home?"

Connor didn't say anything.  That wasn't a good sign.  Connor always had something to say. 

He tried again:  "I suppose that's to be expected.  You probably wouldn't even want to come round this evening for dinner?"

"No."

Becker blinked.  He hadn't expected quite that direct a rejection.  He knew he deserved it, but he thought Connor might at least have been willing to hear him out.  He'd gone too far.  It was going to be a long, long task getting Connor back and perhaps he'd never manage it.

Then Connor added, hesitantly: "I would... I'd come home though.  If... if you wanted me to.  Because... you did say it was just until you remembered.  But not dinner.  Not like it's a first date or something.  Because we're not a first date."

"I didn't think you'd want anything more yet, not after the way I've behaved."

Connor shook his head.  "It wasn't me that wanted anything less.  I'd've stayed with you till you remembered, looked after you.  We could've worked things out, like we'll have to now.  So, what do you want?"

Becker took a deep breath.  He could hardly believe he'd been let off that easily.    He hadn't thought he could feel worse about the way he'd behaved towards Connor, but he was wrong.  "I'm really sorry.  Please come back to me?  Back home?"

"There'd be conditions."

"Anything."

Connor raised an eyebrow, and couldn't stop himself grinning. That was hopeful, Becker thought.  He relaxed a little.

"In case you get hit on the head again, I want you to leave something that I can use to persuade you that we're together and you're happy with that.  A recording or something.  Because your job's dangerous, and I'm not going through this ever again."

"No problem, I'll happily do that.  That's it?  That's all?"

"No.  I haven't even had a chance to think about this properly yet.  But that one's important.  I want a safeguard.  The last month or so has been horrible."

"Sorry."

"So you keep saying."  Connor was looking up at him now expectantly.  He remembered that look.  He was starting to remember a lot of other things too. 

Pulling Connor closer again he found no resistance, leaned down and captured his mouth in a deep, tongue-duelling kiss.  He didn't notice their friends heading back towards them, or hear all the whistles and comments from some of them as he lost himself in the comfortingly familiar sensation that felt like coming home.

For the first time since the accident, everything felt right.

***

Boats were definitely the best way to travel as far as Connor was concerned. 

The failure to return the triceratops to its own time had left the team with something of a logistical nightmare, namely, how to get a large, heavy dinosaur back to the menagerie in London from a small island in the English Channel.  In the end Lester had arranged for a military cargo vessel to collect it, although keeping the creature sedated and loading it discreetly onto the ship in the busy St Peters Port was a considerable challenge.

Danny and Sarah had flown back to sort out transport at Portsmouth, but everyone else had travelled on the cargo ship.

Travel sickness tablets worked far better if you gave them long enough to act before travelling, and he wasn't as bad at travelling on boats anyway.  It was a surprisingly smooth crossing.  Connor had heard things about ferry crossings to the Channel Islands and how little fun they could be if you weren't the best traveller, but it looked as if it was going to be his lucky day.

It probably was.  Becker had barely left his side since coming back through the anomaly.  Connor knew he was being a pushover and probably should be giving Becker a hard time, but it was difficult to stay angry with someone who'd risked their own life to save you from a giant carnivore. 

Connor had run all the way back to the farmhouse with the other men to find the anomaly open and no sign of either the T.rex or Becker.

Danny had moved fastest, commandeering the tractor, yelling at them not to lock the anomaly or follow him, and then heading straight through, gone before Connor could even blink.  Then it was just waiting, slow and painful, having no idea what was happening and whether Becker or Danny were still alive.

Recriminations were pointless, he just wanted to see them back in one piece.  Being so close to having Becker back again, and then risking losing him immediately was just too cruel.  He'd stayed back, away from the others, waiting.

And then the wretched thing had started to close, flickering alarmingly, and there was still no sign of either of them. Nothing, until almost the last moment when that battered tractor came trundling through the anomaly, Danny still grinning from ear to ear, jumping out to rightfully claim the approval and admiration of his friends.

Becker had been slower, quieter.  He looked as if he'd been injured, though not badly.  Most of the others had still kept their distance, seeing Connor heading towards him.  He silently thanked them for that, knowing that whatever Becker was going to say he was a private person and wouldn't want to pour out whatever he had to say in front of the others.  Connor's heart had leapt when he'd heard Becker ask for him, when he'd realised his whereabouts were the first thing Becker had wanted to know.  That would've been what the old Becker would've done.  It was a good sign.  And then a moment later Connor had found himself in a bone-crushing hug and that was the end of his six-week nightmare.

He felt a strange mixture of relief and nervousness at the realisation.  For all his protestations that they should go back to normal, there was no normal any more.  He hadn't liked the other side of Becker that he'd seen, and he wasn't sure how he would feel being back living in the flat with him.  Perhaps it was too soon and the dinner date would have been a better idea after all.

Becker seemed apprehensive too.  He joined Connor standing at the rail, looking out over the sea, then walked away to check the dinosaur was still secure, then came back again.  Never far away, but he was almost pacing the deck.  The journey was too slow for Becker, Connor knew.  He wasn't saying much, but then Becker never had been one for small talk.  He remained very tactile when he was close by, putting his arms around Connor, or leaving his hand on the small of Connor's back, or simply covering the hand holding the ship rail with his own. 

Becker was called away briefly because they thought the triceratops was becoming agitated, the sedation not enough for it and there could be problems, but it turned out to be nothing.  The creature was awake, but barely.  It hardly touched the food it had been given.  Abby never took her eyes off it.  It was a common problem with newly-rescued creatures, they wouldn't eat and pined for their home.  In most cases they settled into the menagerie, but it wasn't an ideal solution.  Connor knew that if they couldn't get the creatures home then Abby's dream was to one day have them in some sort of Jurassic  Park type of set up where at least they wouldn't be so shut in.  That was something for the future though, once they were no longer able to hide the anomalies.  Connor wondered how far off that was.  Behind him, Becker returned with a mug of coffee.

"It's instant, and looked cheap, sorry.  That's all they have on here."

It was bland and had been made with UHT milk, but Connor thought that it might be the best cup of coffee he'd ever had because Becker hadn't even asked this time because he'd _known_ and had got the sugar right because he knew that too.  They could do this, get things back the way they were if they both worked at it.

"Thanks."  He took the mug, sipped, and pulled a face.  It just didn't _taste_ like the best cup of coffee ever.  That didn't mean it wasn't.  "Is the tea just as bad?"

"Possibly worse.  You can throw it over the side if you like."  Becker took a sip from his own mug, then did throw it into the Channel, plastic cup as well.  "That's disgusting."

"Worse than mine?"

"Who'd think it was possible?"  Becker gave him a small, tentative smile.  It was what Connor wanted.  Not the tip-toeing around and endless apologies.  He wanted the easy relationship that they'd shared, the good- natured joking and teasing.  Connor grinned back at him.

"Maybe when we get home you can teach me."

"Again."  Becker moved behind him, sliding his arms around Connor's waist and nuzzling at his neck.  "I can teach you again."

"So many better things to remember, and that's the memory you pick?" Connor teased.  "I can think of better ones!"

"So can I.  There's things I'm still only recalling in pieces, and a whole box of things at home that I don't know what they are or where they came from."

"We can go through them.  I'd like that.  I hated leaving you to figure it all out for yourself.  I really wanted to help."

"My own fault.  But one thing I still don't understand.  Why did you lie?  About us, about how we got together?  Why not just tell me the truth?"

Connor shrugged, ducking his head slightly in embarrassment, then evidently thinking better of it and looking up, meeting his gaze in a brief show of defiance.  "That wasn't something I wanted to share with what you'd turned into.  That's us, that's ours.  You were already ripping up everything else we'd built together.  The only way I wanted you to know about that was by remembering it.  And it was the only way I'd know you'd really remembered, if it wasn't the same as what I’d told you."

"That's sort of insane, you know that, right?"

"And you were sort of horrible, you know that too, right?" Connor countered.  "I needed to be sure."

"Got it.  I'm sorry."  Connor felt Becker's arms tighten around him.  "You're still coming home?"

He wasn't so sure any more.  Becker's arms felt warm, safe, he didn't want to leave them.  But things had been so bad for so many weeks.    "Maybe I should just do the dinner thing after all, like you said."

He felt Becker tense up. 

"If that's what you want.  We can go as slowly as you need to.  I know I've been a shit.  But I'm not giving up on us.  What we had is worth fighting for."

Connor nodded.  He knew, he'd fought for it and lost. 

"I'll talk to Abby, get her to drop me off later."

Becker snorted at that.  "She'll be pleased.  She's not my greatest fan."

"She'll be okay.  They'll secretly be glad to have the place to themselves for the evening."

Portsmouth harbour was rapidly looming on the horizon and Connor could hear Becker being called to help with the dinosaur.

"Dinner, then."  Becker kissed him, then let go.  "We can talk."

More talking.  As the warmth of his lover's body left him, Connor shivered in the cool breeze.  He wondered if they could ever return to the contented life they'd once shared.

***

The waiting was the worst part.

Connor could always change his mind, or Abby might well change it for him.  There was always that risk and Becker knew he couldn't blame him if that was what happened.  He wasn't going to give up, but it would make things more difficult. 

It was only just over an hour, but it felt like half the day.  He prepared food that he could cook quickly for them.  He tidied up, not that the flat needed it.  Then he realised it looked too tidy considering Connor was coming round... might be coming round.  He took out a few books and tried leaving them lying around, then put them all away again because it was just stupid and Becker just wasn't any good at mess.  And then there was the buzzer, with a familiar voice over the intercom saying: "It's me."  And finally there was Connor, standing in their hallway, a large rucksack over his shoulder.  He still looked a little uncertain.

"You okay?"

"Abby says I should tell you where to go.  She didn't want me coming back here."

"Abby's probably right.  I bet that wasn't all she said."

Connor shifted his feet uncomfortably.  "No.  But she'll come round."  He lowered the rucksack, holding it in front of him like a shield.

"I'll take that.  Come on through, I'm making us dinner." Becker took the rucksack from him and went to carry it through to the living room, then realised Connor wasn't following him.  He turned back to find the other man was still standing there.  "Conn?"

"I don't want to do this."

Becker's heart sank.  It was what he'd been fearing.  He took a few steps towards Connor, not sure what to do with the rucksack now.  "I understand.  You could still stay in the spare room though.  That's yours for as long as you need it."

"The spare room?"  Connor looked at him blankly.  "I didn't come back here to stay in the spare room.  I don't want to ever spend another night away from you."

"But you just said you didn't want to do this."

"No, I didn't mean...  It's just... can we talk tomorrow?  I don't want to talk any more.  I'm tired, and I've missed you and can we just go to bed?  Please."  Connor gazed at him, and Becker could see all the hurt and pain he'd caused in the last few weeks staring back at him.  "Just... make it go away."

That made it easier and yet so much more difficult at the same time. Once, what seemed like an eternity ago, Becker would've just grabbed Connor and had him up against the wall right there in the hallway just at the merest suggestion of sex.  Things were different then.  He dropped the rucksack on the floor, pushing it aside with his foot and pulling Connor in to hold him close, just to feel the reassurance that he was there, that they were both there and that there wasn't going to be anything keeping them apart again.

Then he reached down and took Connor's hand, pulling away from him and indicating with a gentle tug that he should follow.  He led him through the living room, walking backwards carefully, not breaking eye contact for more than the flicker of a second that was needed to make sure he wasn't backing them into a chair or something.  Connor barely even blinked, those dark eyes gazing back at him.  Only when they were in the bedroom that was almost theirs again did Becker draw him closer, embracing him gently, kissing him long and hard, one hand firmly on the back of Connor's head, stroking at the short soft hairs at the top of his neck.

"You're sure?" Becker whispered.  He wouldn't blame Connor for backing out.  He'd been horrible.  The things he'd said...

"Please... just...Yes."

Connor had already unzipped his hoodie and quickly wriggled out of it, throwing it onto the chair.  His t-shirt went next, Becker yanking it over his head, then reaching for Connor's jeans, unfastening them and pushing them down round his ankles along with his boxers, pausing to admire the sight of his lover's cock bobbing up.

"Now that's something I've missed." 

He eased Connor down onto the bed, then knelt and pulled the other man's battered trainers off, followed by the jeans and boxers.

"Lie back," he urged, before pulling his own clothes off and flinging them onto the chair. 

He dropped onto the bed, crawling over to straddle Connor, lying over him and reaching down to kiss him again.   Connor leaned up into him, returning the kiss with interest, his tongue probing Becker's mouth, one hand reaching down to claim Becker's semi-erect cock, stroking him to a full hardness.  Becker moaned into Connor's mouth, pushing him down into the mattress in a bruising kiss that left Connor breathless and reaching for himself.  Becker pushed his hand away.

"That's mine," he whispered, and was rewarded with a little whimper of need.  He smiled down at his lover, the familiar teasing game coming back all too easily.  Probably not the time to suggest restraints, that could wait for another night when things weren't so raw.

Becker sat up, keeping Connor gripped between his thighs.  He reached over to the bedside cabinet and pulled open the drawer, retrieving the little bottle of lube and a condom. 

"There wasn't anyone else," he assured him.  There had been something in Connor's expression when Becker had opened the drawer that told him it was what he was wondering.  "Never.  I promise."  He saw the other man's face relax slightly and leaned down to kiss him again, biting a little on his lip.  He moved down Connor's throat, nipping and sucking, enjoying the little gasps and moans as he travelled further, down his chest and then kissing Connor's stomach, feeling his lover buck at the touch.

"Still ticklish there?" Becker experimented, gently stroking his hand over Connor's hip, then trailing his fingers over his stomach and watching him wriggle.  Connor was still held firmly between his thighs and Becker wasn't going to let him go.

He lowered his head to lick at the tip of Connor's swollen, leaking cock, enjoying the moan of pleasure that elicited.  Taking it all in, he ran his tongue over the thick veins, sucking and licking, tasting the salty pre-come.  He reached under Connor, trailing a finger down his crack and pressing on his entrance, causing his lover to buck and groan.

Sitting up, Becker grinned down at Connor's dishevelled form.  He looked good like that, pupils dilated, breathless and eager. 

"What do you want?" Becker breathed.  "Anything.  Anything at all."

"Fuck me.  I want to feel you inside me again."

That was more than he hoped for.  He reached down, stroking his hands under Connor, down his back, slipping lower until he was caressing his lover's arse, one finger gently stroking and probing at his entrance.  Connor arched up, trying to push himself further onto it and giving a small grumble of complaint when Becker withdrew his hand.

"Beck... more, I want more... please don't stop, don't...ah..." Connor sighed as Becker inserted a slick finger, stretching and probing him.  He knew Connor, knew exactly what he liked and what brought him to a state where there would be a stream of begging and pleading coming from his mouth.  "Oh yeah, there... that's... more... I want you to...oh God there... no, don't..."

Becker introduced a third finger, massaging and stretching, stroking over Connor's prostate and eliciting a moan of pleasure at every stroke.  He tore open the condom packet, and rolled it over his cock.

"Ready for me?"

"Yes!  Just... oh please...I want you..." Becker rolled him over, lifted Connor's hips so that he was on his knees then carefully eased his way in right up to his balls.  "I need too... Yeah, there, that's it...oh!"

 

Becker began to move against him, slowly at first then setting up a rhythm as he thrust into Connor.  He kept one arm tight around his lover, making the thrusts shorter but as he'd got the angle right to hit his lover's prostate pretty much every time it wasn't going to take very long.  He pulled Connor into an upright position, both of them kneeling up, moving together.  Connor was still keeping up his commentary on just how much he liked that, and when Becker reached round to give his cock a few hard strokes, he grew fairly incoherent.

Connor leaned back against him, very close now.  Becker moved his hand faster, harder, burying his face in Connor's neck in a bruising kiss, marking him.  Connor came with a cry, his cock spilling hot come over Becker's hand and his own stomach, contracting around Becker which was just enough to send the soldier over the edge, both of them collapsing onto the bed, spent.

Becker withdrew carefully, rolling to one side.  Tying off the condom, he tossed it in the bin, then grabbed some tissues to clean them up, wiping tenderly at Connor's stomach, alternating the wipes with little licks and kisses.  Connor wriggled and bucked satisfyingly, his sensitised skin making him even more ticklish, until Becker relented and lay back, pulling Connor into his arms.

"Good?"

"You even have to ask?" Connor replied.  He snuggled closer, quiet for a while. 

"Are you going to move back in?"

"No talking," Connor reminded him.  "And yes.  But no talking tonight." 

"Okay."  He stroked the back of Connor's head, carding his fingers through the thick dark hair.  They lay there in silence for a while, then Connor broke it.

"I'm hungry," he murmured.  "I suppose dinner's ruined?"

"It was a stir fry.  It's all in the fridge, we could have it for lunch tomorrow."

"Nothing that would spoil just in case I was an easy lay," Connor teased.

"You're _my_ easy lay.  And nothing wrong with covering all eventualities."  He kissed Connor again, moving over him, pushing him down into the mattress.  "You really want me to go and cook dinner?"

"Maybe a sandwich?" Connor attempted.  "I really am hungry."

Becker grumbled a little, good-humouredly, and trotted obediently out to the kitchen.  Connor was, he knew, going to take full advantage of the fact that he could ask for anything at the moment and probably get it.  Becker wasn't going to deny him.

When he returned, he found Connor leaning over the far side of the bed, looking at something down there.  There was a cardboard box sitting on the floor next to the chest of drawers and Connor was poking through the contents.  Becker left the sandwiches on the bedside table, climbed back into bed and then reached across Connor to pull the box up onto the bed between them.

"That's all the stuff I still don't recall," he admitted.  "Although..." he pulled out a small plastic dinosaur.  "That's yours isn't it?  You bought it at that exhibition on the Jurassic Coast.  As if we don't see enough of them!"

Connor beamed at the model, then set it down on the top of the chest of drawers.  "I thought you'd thrown him away!  Oooh, cheese and tomato?  My favourite!" He reached over to grab one of the sandwiches.

"I didn't throw away anything that I couldn't remember.  There's lots of stuff boxed up. Those were the last things I found."

Connor devoured the sandwich as if he'd been starved, then picked up the other one and started on that.  He did so one-handed, using the other hand to rummage through the box.  "That's my old mp3 player.  And this," he held up a snowglobe that had incongruously been created with a seaside scene inside and another little dinosaur and the words 'St Ives'.  "That's what you bought as a souvenir, even though it's the tackiest thing ever.  You thought it was funny."

Becker frowned at it.  He didn't recall it at all.  "Are we sure this is the first time I've hit my head?  Because that suggests otherwise."

"Mmm," Connor was enjoying that sandwich.  And, apparently, going through the box.  "Definitely.  And this is the Frisbee we bought for that beach at Hayle, the huge one.  And this is..."  He pulled out a thick paperback.

"Hang on, I know that one now, it's not even ours.  That's the stupid book Danny loaned us.  That's going back!"

Connor beamed at him.  "You're remembering more!"

Becker nodded.  "Owen says it should all come back eventually.  Maybe not the accident itself because of the long term memories not getting a chance to form, but everything else."

Connor grinned, then dived enthusiastically back into his exploration of the contents of the box.  "We should go through all of this!  What's this?"

He'd pulled out a small black box.  Becker frowned.  "I don't know.  I found it at the back of a drawer when I was tidying.  It's a ring."

Connor had opened it up and was looking at it.  "I've never seen it before."

"Well it's too small for me.  I just assumed it was yours."

"Nope, I've only got the one."  Connor stuffed the remnants of the sandwich into his mouth, wiped his hand on the sheet then carefully took the ring out of its box.  "White gold.  Nice.  Where was it?"

"Bottom drawer of my beside cabinet, right at the back."

"The one you always keep locked?"

"Don't know why.  There was all sorts of rubbish in there.  And that."

"It wasn't in there three months ago."

Becker raised an eyebrow at that.

"What?  Every time you leave it unlocked I have a good look through it to see what you're being so secretive about.  It's dead boring because yeah, it is crap in there."

"And that."

"And this!  It's like your precious!  Ah, no eye-rolling, you're supposed to be being nice to me!"

"I didn't roll my eyes, Connor.  And you don't know.  You weren't even looking."

I know you," Connor grinned at him.  "I didn't need to."  He was still playing with the ring, turning it over, then sliding it onto his index finger.  "Bit loose but not a bad fit."

Becker watched him, and he knew.  It wasn't a memory, he still couldn't remember anything about the ring and his original plans for it, though he suspected it might have involved the house they'd almost bought before some other couple beat them to it.  The house that had gone back on the market a few days ago.  He knew because the estate agent had rung him up about it.  Becker had told her they weren't interested any more, and perhaps they still weren't because it was all far too soon after everything else that had happened.  Or perhaps it was just the huge step they needed to take them back to where they both wanted to be.  Connor must have noticed he'd gone quiet, and looked up curiously.

"I don't think that's the finger it was intended to go on," Becker pointed out gently.  He took Connor's hand, and moved the ring over to the third finger.  It fitted perfectly. 

Connor was gazing at him, open-mouthed, then down at his hand and back again at Becker.

"I'm fairly certain that's where it's meant to be."

Connor still didn't say anything, just stared at him.  Becker knew there was every chance he might get it flung in his face.  And also every chance that he wouldn't.  He tried again: "You wanted proof.  If it ever happened again.  That would be better proof than anything."

"That's the reason?"

"No, of course not.  I wanted to do this.  I still want to do this.  I love you and I just want everything back the way it was."

"This isn't the way it was."  Connor removed the ring and put it back in the box, then handed it back to Becker.  Becker could feel his heart sinking like a leaden weight.  "And it's too much right now.  Too soon."

Becker swallowed back his disappointment.  At least Connor hadn't thrown it at him, though it almost felt as if he had.  And Connor wasn't getting out of bed, just putting the cardboard box down on the floor then wriggling further down under the covers for the night.

Becker sat there, holding the tiny black box, not sure what to do with it or to say next.  In the end he just attempted: "Sorry."

"I know you are," Connor murmured.  "But no need to go overboard.  You don't remember what you had planned for that ring, and you've already saved me from a T.rex today.  C'mere."  He pulled Becker closer to snuggle up to him.  "God, I've missed you."

Becker popped the box up on the bedside table, then drew Connor into a long, sensual kiss before settling down against him for the night.  "Missed you too, probably when I didn't even realise it.  And that's going to sit up there until you're ready to take it."

Connor reached up and turned out the light, but Becker could sense that he was smiling.    The weight lifted, just a little.  It was only a postponement.  All he had to do was continue to love Connor.  And he could remember how to do that.

He could remember how to do that very well.

***

 

 

 


End file.
